La Réserve was a vision of Parisian elegance nestled in the heart of New York. Crystal chandeliers bathed the dining room in a warm golden glow, and the soft murmur of French accents from waiters moving between tables added to the restaurant's exclusive atmosphere. Every detail, from the meticulously arranged floral centerpieces to the perfectly pressed white tablecloths, whispered sophistication.
As the four of them settled into their corner booth, a sommelier approached, presenting a selection of wines. Morgan, ever the connoisseur, chose a vintage Bordeaux without hesitation. Claire noticed how effortlessly she carried herself in this world of power and privilege—it was second nature to her.
After their wine glasses were filled, Julian leaned back in his seat and smirked at Claire. "So, you met our dear sister when she became your divorce attorney, huh?"
Claire chuckled, taking a small sip of her wine. "Yeah. I was an emotional wreck after catching my ex-husband cheating, and then I literally ran into Morgan at her office building. She offered me legal help before I could even process what was happening." She glanced at Morgan with a fond smile. "The rest, as they say, is history."
Evelyn arched a playful brow. "That's actually kind of romantic, in a very Morgan-like way. She always was the type to *acquire* things rather than date like a normal person."
Morgan sighed dramatically. "You two act like I've never had a personal life outside of my career."
Julian smirked. "Do you?"
Morgan shot him a look before turning her attention back to her filet mignon, cutting into it with precision.
Evelyn leaned toward Claire with a conspiratorial smile. "I have to say, we were surprised when we heard she was actually *dating* someone. She's always been all work and no play."
Claire smirked, glancing at Morgan. "Oh, she plays."
Julian nearly choked on his wine, and Evelyn burst into laughter. Even Morgan had to fight back a small smirk.
"Careful, darling," Morgan murmured, her tone carrying that familiar hint of warning.
Claire grinned, unbothered. "Just speaking the truth."
As their entrees arrived, conversation shifted. Claire learned that Julian had reluctantly followed their father's footsteps into law, though he lacked the ruthless edge that made Victor Pierce infamous. Evelyn, on the other hand, had rebelled completely, pursuing a career in the art world.
"You're lucky, Claire," Evelyn said between bites of duck confit. "Morgan's a force of nature. She looks out for the people she cares about."
Julian nodded. "Yeah. She might be terrifying, but she's loyal."
Morgan exhaled, setting down her fork. "Would you two stop? You're going to scare her away."
Claire reached for Morgan's hand under the table, lacing their fingers together. "I'm not going anywhere."
Morgan's siblings exchanged amused glances, but neither of them teased her for once.
As the last of their entrées were cleared away, the server returned with an elegant dessert tray, showcasing an array of colorful macarons, delicate crème brûlée, and a decadent dark chocolate mousse. Claire admired the spread, but as she reached for a raspberry macaron, Julian's voice cut through the warm atmosphere.
"Morgan," he said, swirling the last of his wine in his glass, "what's your plan for dealing with Dad?"
The air shifted. Morgan's grip on her spoon tightened, and Claire noticed the barely perceptible clench in her jaw.
"Julian," Evelyn interjected before Morgan could respond. "Do we really have to do this now? We're actually enjoying ourselves for once."
Julian exhaled heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I get it, Ev, but we can't pretend everything's fine. You know how he operates. If he's feeling threatened, he'll push back twice as hard." He turned back to Morgan. "Are you ready for that?"
Morgan finally set down her spoon and leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. "I've been ready for years," she said smoothly, but Claire could hear the tension beneath her composed facade.
Julian scoffed. "You say that, but you also know how dangerous he is when he's backed into a corner."
Morgan's lips curved into a cold, knowing smile. "Yes, I do. But what he doesn't seem to realize is that I'm not that scared little girl anymore." She sipped her wine with calculated poise. "He taught me how to be ruthless. I just perfected it."
Claire watched the exchange quietly, feeling a chill at the weight of Morgan's words. She had always known Morgan was powerful, but seeing her in this light—facing off against her own family, holding her ground against a man as formidable as Victor Pierce—reminded her just how much was at stake.
Evelyn sighed, tapping her spoon against the edge of her crème brûlée dish. "Can we not do this tonight?" she asked. "For once, can we just pretend we're a normal family, sitting down for dessert, talking about mundane things like the weather or—God forbid—dating?"
Julian exhaled but nodded. "Fine. But, Morgan—" his voice lowered slightly, carrying the weight of warning— "just… watch your back."
Morgan met his gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. "Always."
Claire reached under the table, slipping her hand into Morgan's. The gesture was small, but when Morgan squeezed back, Claire felt the slightest tremble in her fingers.
Evelyn, sensing the tension still lingering, suddenly perked up. "Alright, since we're changing the subject, Claire—tell me, does my sister ever let you win an argument?"
Claire laughed, grateful for the lighter turn in conversation. "Oh, absolutely not. Even when I'm right, she somehow finds a way to make me feel like I'm wrong."
Julian chuckled. "That sounds about right."
Morgan smirked, finally relaxing. "I don't argue unless I know I'll win."
Evelyn rolled her eyes. "God, you're unbearable."
Claire squeezed Morgan's hand again and leaned in slightly. "And yet, here we are, still putting up with her."
Julian raised his glass. "To surviving Morgan Pierce."
Evelyn snorted but lifted her own. "To surviving Morgan."
Claire and Morgan exchanged a glance before clinking their glasses with the others, the laughter at their table finally pushing away the shadows of Victor Pierce—if only for one night.