Chapter Forty One
The Dinner of Glass
The dining room was quiet except for the sound of silver hitting porcelain. The long mahogany table stretched between us like a frozen river. Alexander sat at the head, his eyes fixed on his tablet as he scrolled through the evening market reports. I sat to his right, staring at the perfectly grilled fish on my plate.
"You are not eating, Rachael," Alexander said. He did not look up from his screen. "The chef spent three hours preparing that fish."
"I am not very hungry, Alexander," I said.
He tapped the screen of his tablet, turned it off, and placed it face down on the table. He turned his body toward me and crossed his arms. His blue eyes were calm but very heavy.
"We had a good day yesterday," he said. "You spent the whole day with Chase. You
