CHAPTER SEVEN — The House Trembles
The Richard mansion felt too quiet when Alex arrived home that evening. The kind of quiet that wasn't peaceful but tense, tight, expectant. The kind that sat on the walls and waited to burst. He'd barely stepped out of his car before a maid rushed toward him. "Sir… your mother is here." Alex froze. "My mother? Here?" "Yes, sir. She arrived this morning. She's… in the drawing room. With Madam. And Miss Victorine ." Alex's jaw clenched. He strode into the house, tossing his keys aside, and marched straight toward the raised voices echoing through the corridor. Even from the hallway, he recognised the sharp, condemning tone of his mother. "…and I will not sit in this house pretending this is normal! You've dragged our family name through the mud—" Juliana 's voice cut through, cold and tired. "Your cruelty is exhausting, Mother." Alex stepped inside. Victorine sat on the sofa, eyes red, trying desperately not to cry again. Juliana stood in front of her like a shield. And Mrs Richard — tall, rigid, chin high — looked as though she'd been waiting for an audience. She turned as soon as she saw him. "Ah, Alex. Finally, come and knock sense into your reckless wife." Silence fell. Alex didn't move at first. He looked at Juliana , then at Victorine — trembling, overwhelmed, clearly still sick from the morning — then finally at his mother. His voice came out low. "What did you say?" "Oh don't act like you didn't hear." Mrs Richard waved a dismissive hand. "This absurd arrangement, this… maid carrying your child—" "Mum," Alex said, voice rising, "don't." "I will not hold my tongue in my son's home," she snapped. "I come here and find your wife parading a servant girl around as if she's some kind of saviour. It's humiliating." Victorine flinched. Juliana stepped forward. "Alex, she's been like this the entire day." Mrs Richard scoffed. "Well perhaps if you hadn't chosen a barren wife, we wouldn't be in this mess." The room froze. Juliana 's breath caught. Victorine looked horrified. And Alex… Alex exploded. "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!" His mother blinked, startled by the sheer force of his voice. "I said—" "No. No, you don't get to repeat it!" Alex's voice thundered through the room. "You don't get to insult my wife in front of me. You don't get to walk into my house and talk to Victorine like she's trash. You don't get to spit your bitterness at everyone here because you don't like how we're choosing to live!" Mrs Richard raised her chin. "I am your mother—" "You're the woman who gave birth to me," Alex snapped, "but you were never a mother." The air tightened. Victorine covered her mouth. Juliana 's eyes widened — she had never heard Alex speak like this before. Mrs Richard stiffened. "Don't be ridiculous. I raised you—" "You? Raise me?" Alex laughed, a harsh, painful sound. "You chased fame, Mother! You chased luncheons with aristocrats. You chased charity galas so you could take pictures. You chased every bloody spotlight you could find!" Her lips thinned. "That is entirely unfair—" "Is it?" Alex shouted. "Who tucked me into bed at night?" Mrs Richard faltered. "Who sat beside me when I had fever at age seven?" Silence. "Who attended parents' day at school? Who came to my recitals? Who actually knew my friends' names?" Mrs Richard looked away. Alex's voice cracked, rage mixing with long-buried pain. "The nanny raised me. Not you. The nanny was my mother. And you were too busy posing for society papers to notice you were losing a son." "Alex—" she whispered. "No!" he barked. "You don't get to 'Alex' me now. Not after the way you walked in here today, spewing poison at Juliana and Victorine ." Mrs Richard swallowed, but her pride tensed back up. "I am simply concerned," she said sharply. "Concerned that your wife is making foolish decisions. Concerned that you've let a servant carry your child!" Victorine bowed her head, fists shaking. Juliana stepped forward. "She's not just a servant. She's saving our family. You will respect her." Mrs Richard gave her a cold, disdainful stare. "You can demand respect once you give this family an heir yourself." Juliana gasped softly, hurt carving its way across her face. And Alex snapped again. "DON'T YOU EVER SPEAK TO HER LIKE THAT." "She has failed in her duty as a—" "FAILED?!" Alex shouted so loudly that Victorine jumped. "Do you think she chose infertility? Do you think she hasn't cried enough? Do you think she hasn't felt enough guilt? Enough shame? Enough heartbreak?" Juliana 's eyes filled with tears. "She has suffered more than you could possibly understand," Alex said through clenched teeth. "And you come here — for one day — and tear her apart with your words as if you've earned the right?" Mrs Richard's nostrils flared. "I am doing what's best for this family—" "No. You're doing what's best for your pride," Alex shot back. "You care more about appearances than people." "That is not true—" "Oh really? Then look at Victorine ," Alex demanded, pointing sharply. Mrs Richard hesitated, eyes flickering to the trembling girl. "Look at her. Look at how terrified she is of you. Look at what you've done in less than twenty-four hours. She's pregnant. She's fragile. And you've spent the entire day making her feel dirty for helping us." Victorine 's eyes welled again, and she wiped them quietly, trying to be invisible. Alex's voice softened only slightly — but the anger remained burning beneath. "She is saving Daniel's life. She is saving our future. She has given us hope we haven't felt in years." Mrs Richard swallowed, but her jaw clenched stubbornly. "And Juliana …" Alex's voice thickened with emotion. "Juliana is my wife. The woman I chose. The woman I love. And you will not make her feel small in her own home." Juliana reached out, touching Alex's hand, grateful. Mrs Richard exhaled shakily, hands trembling. "You are blinded by emotion." "GOOD!" Alex barked. "Because you've lived your whole life blinded by EVERYTHING but emotion." He stepped closer, glare fierce and unwavering. "Listen carefully. Victorine will stay here. Juliana will not be insulted again. And you — you will watch your words. Or you will leave." "I will not be thrown out of my son's house," she said coldly. "You're welcome here," Alex said, voice lower but firm, "but your cruelty is not." Mrs Richard stared at him, stunned, chest rising and falling with restrained fury. "This conversation is over," Alex said. "And you will apologise to Victorine ." Mrs Richard stiffened. "I beg your pardon?" "You heard me. Apologise to her." Her lips tightened. "I will do no such—" "Mum," Alex warned, eyes darkening, "apologise. Or walk out." Silence thickened like smoke. Victorine 's heart hammered in her chest. Finally, Mrs Richard looked at her — not with warmth, not even with acceptance, but with a bitter, forced restraint. "…I may have spoken… too harshly," she said stiffly. Alex arched his brow. Mrs Richard clenched her jaw. "I apologise." Victorine whispered, "It's… it's alright, ma'am." "It isn't," Alex corrected. "But thank you for saying it." His mother glared at him, humiliated but contained. Alex then sat beside Victorine , lowering his voice. "Are you alright?" She nodded weakly. "Yes, sir…" "You're safe here," he said gently. "No one will mistreat you again." Juliana placed a warm hand on Victorine 's back. "We're here, darling. Always." Mrs Richard stood stiffly in the doorway, the weight of the confrontation hanging behind her like a storm cloud. And for the first time in years… The house belonged to Alex — not to the shadow of his mother, but to the family he chose and the future they were finally build