C7 CHAPTER SEVEN

Amid a tense atmosphere, stirred by the departure of Katrina Herdon in a surge of anger, the dining table found itself stripped of all but three occupants: Gabriel, Richmond, and Alabama Herdon. With a palpable air of curiosity, Gabriel turned to his daughter, Alabama, and broached a question that hung in the room like a delicate thread.

"Alabama, my daughter," he began, a mixture of hope and uncertainty in his voice, "will you take Collins Clifford as your lawfully wedded husband?"

Breaking the silence, Alabama's response rang clear, a pivotal moment in the familial saga, as she uttered a simple yet resolute "yes." The weight of her affirmation lingered, reshaping the dynamics within the confined space.

In the wake of this pivotal declaration, Gabriel, a father both proud and contemplative, wasted no time in unleashing a torrent of praise upon his daughter. The words spilled forth, a torrent of admiration, as the echoes of Richmond's departure still reverberated in the background, creating a tableau of familial bonds and shifting alliances around the now-changed dining table.

In the confines of Gabriel's room, the walls reverberated with the tense exchange between Katrina and Gabriel.

"Honey, how could you willingly give our daughter away to those wicked people?" Katrina's voice echoed with dismay.

"Kat, why stress yourself?" Gabriel retorted, attempting to justify his decision. "It's for the betterment of the company, and Alabama loves Collins."

Katrina, fueled by anger, spoke up vehemently. "What kind of so-called betterment is this? Are you so blinded by greed that you'd exchange our only daughter for the sake of your company? I want no part in this!"

Frustrated and indignant, Katrina stormed out of the room, leaving Gabriel to grapple with the weight of his choices.

Meanwhile, in Alabama's quarters, Richmond confronted her about accepting Collins despite knowing the malevolence associated with his family.

"Why, Alabama? Why accept Collins when you know how wicked they are?" Richmond inquired, his concern evident in his gaze.

Alabama, undeterred, asserted, "I don't care about what Mom and Dad are saying. All I know is that I love Collins, and I believe he loves me."

Disheartened by Alabama's unwavering stance, Richmond stood up and left the room. Alone, Alabama seized the moment to share her joy, immediately reaching out to her friends to announce the upcoming engagement with Collins Clifford.

RICHMOND ROOM

Aurora hesitated at the entrance to the Richmond Room, her lower lip caught delicately between her teeth as she clutched the tray of food with a subtle tension. The prospect of entering seemed to weave a thread of nervous energy through her.

The head maid, observing Aurora's momentary pause, inquired about her hesitation with a directness that prompted an immediate nod from Aurora. The door creaked open, granting passage, and the two women ushered her into the room.

Upon crossing the threshold, Aurora moved with deliberate slowness, her eyes absorbing the details of the room while balancing the tray with utmost care. Richmond, oblivious to her presence, stood in a contemplative pose by the window, his gaze fixed on the world beyond.

Summoning courage, Aurora softly uttered, "Sir Richmond," her voice a delicate melody in the room's quietude. The tray found its place on his desk, yet he remained fixed in his silent reverie, the outside world seemingly holding more allure than the acknowledgment of her presence.

In this tableau of hesitancy and unspoken tension, Aurora's simple greeting hung in the air, awaiting a response that lingered just beyond the reach of the room's quiet ambiance.

As Aurora gracefully bowed and began her retreat, a motion to depart from the Richmond Room, an unexpected interruption unfolded. His deliberate voice pierced the room, calling her name in a measured cadence that arrested her departure. She pivoted slowly, finding him closing the distance with purpose.

In a moment of proximity, Richmond, his gaze penetrating, confronted her with a direct question that seemed to unravel a quiet mystery. "Who are you?" he inquired, fixing his eyes on hers, and an involuntary swallow betrayed Aurora's composure.

Puzzled, she responded, "What are you talking about, Sir Richard?" Her eyes, subtly trembling, sought clarity in his probing gaze. Richmond, a sudden realization dawning upon him, pressed his lips together and a subtle smile played on his features.

"Nothing," he declared, the tension dissipating like mist in the morning sun. His attention, however, redirected to the subtle movements of her enticing neck as if caught in a fleeting moment of fascination.

The atmosphere shifted as Richmond delved into a new line of inquiry, his curiosity piqued. "Why were you with Jackson, the head of security, earlier?" The question hung in the air, a new layer of intrigue settling over the room, prompting Aurora to navigate the delicate dance of maintaining her poise amidst the unexpected scrutiny.

"What did this question mean, Sir Richmond?" she inquired, her gaze meeting his as he observed her with an intensity that hinted at a possible tinge of jealousy. Richmond's response was succinct and commanding, "You can leave," he declared, his tone undergoing an abrupt transformation. She lowered her head in acknowledgment, retracing her steps towards the exit.

In a subtle yet compelling moment, she glanced back at him, and their eyes locked in a silent exchange that sent a shiver down her spine.

The door swung open under her determined push, and without a moment's hesitation, she stepped out into the open air. Richmond, left behind, released a frustrated exhale, his disheveled hair a testament to the tension in the room.

"I think I'm feeling hot," he muttered to himself, resorting to a theatrical fan of his face with his hand, perhaps a subconscious attempt to cool both his rising temper and the invisible heat in the atmosphere.

Meanwhile, Aurora strolled along the corridor, the echoes of Richmond's conversation persistently reverberating in her mind. What exactly was he saying? Her thoughts swirled like a tempest as she navigated the passageway, a silent quest for understanding. Then, a symphony of footsteps reached her ears, causing her to look up in anticipation.

A pause ensued when she laid eyes on Alabama, flanked by her two personal maids, a trio that seemed to embody an unspoken narrative of hierarchy and exclusivity. The scene unfolded, each character a player in a drama that promised more revelations than the echoes of Richmond's words could provide.