The Fallen Heiress: Contract Marriage with the CEO Who Hates Me
Chapter 20: A Different Dinner

Chapter 20: A Different Dinner

Charles looked at the table set by the Chastain household’s maid and realized that his parents would be joining him for tonight’s dinner which was a rare occurrence, especially since the end of spring was a rather hectic period for their company.

He took his seat behind the neatly arranged dining table, fidgeting with the thick, white napkin, then looked at the grand antique clock on the opposite wall, and let out a long sigh - his parents were already thirty minutes late.

’What’s the point of asking the maid to prepare dinner if they can’t make it on time? Mother will just end up scolding the maid for the cold food and stall the dinner even longer.’

Charles did not like it when his meals were becoming ceremonial, he was a stern believer that the act of food consumption should only have one purpose––nourishing one’s body, nothing more, nothing less. The only times when he actually enjoyed sitting down and having a "proper meal" was with Devolds, mostly because their company alone never gave him indigestion.

When the clock struck nine, the silence of the dining room was instantly disrupted by the loud but exhausted voice of Mrs. Nocile Chastain.

"Charles, good evening! Have you been waiting long? Your father is talking to the driver. Apparently, the poor man chipped his tooth in the morning and has been suffering this whole time. His devotion to his duty is truly admirable."

Mrs. Chastain dropped her black leather purse on the chair next to her own, then joined her son behind the table, and gestured for the maid to pour her a glass of white wine.

Nicole Chastain, an elegant and accomplished woman of forty-nine, effortlessly exuded a timeless beauty that captivated all who encountered her.

As a prominent and highly regarded businesswoman, her poise and charisma commanded attention in boardrooms and executive circles alike. Her radiant smile and striking features reflected a life well-lived, with wisdom and grace etched into every line. Charles was the spitting image of his mother, much to her great satisfaction.

With a rather careful, calculated movement of her pale hand, she picked up the wine glass, then fixed her sharp gray eyes on her son, and asked, now in a somewhat reserved tone,

"How are you today? Have you heard from your grandfather yet? He promised me he would give you a call today."

"Yeah, he called me in the afternoon."

Charles decided to make his reply short as his father, Mr. Jason Chastain, entered the dining room, loosening his silk tie while marching toward the table, and after offering his son a brief acknowledging nod, took his seat behind the table and, without hesitation, started eating right away.

"So, what did the old man say? Is the preparation for your trip going as planned?"

Jason Chastain appeared to be the complete opposite of his wife. A tall and robust man at the respectable age of fifty-five, his face seemed to have never known the innate capability to smile. He always wore a serious expression, appearing deep in thought as if constantly pondering matters of great importance.

As his father’s cold, slightly husky voice reached Charles’ ears, the guy put away his fork and cleared his throat.

"According to Grandpa, the preparations are moving smoothly. And, while we’re on the subject..."

Charles took a generous sip from his own wine glass and continued, his voice full of confidence, "I was thinking if I could return a week earlier than planned. I fear that Jane will be lonely, so I’d like to spend more time with her before school starts again."

Mr. Chastain seemed to be entirely unaffected by his son’s remark as he simply continued eating while his wife patted a white napkin on the corners of her mouth and curved her lips into an unexpectedly irritated smile.

"Well, if your only concern is Jane’s lack of entertainment, then I’m afraid it’s not a reason enough to cut your trip short, especially since your grandfather went through a lot of trouble to have you join him."

She paused to let Charles refute her response but the guy was conveniently silent. She continued.

"If she does not like to be lonely, maybe she should consider doing something useful with her time as well. Honestly, just because this girl is going to inherit her father’s company by default does not mean she should not learn how to actually manage a business of that scale. It infuriates me to see her simply wasting her time. She is excessively indulged, and it does her no good."

The woman threw a quick glance at her husband to see if he would offer her at least non-verbal support, which he did by nodding his head and offering his son a very distinctive frown.

Charles, taken aback by that cold, passive-aggressive attitude, clasped his hands on top of his knees and looked his mother in the eyes.

"I don’t understand, I thought you were quite fond of the Devolds. Did not you tell me that you were already thinking about marriage?"

At last, Mr. Chastain let out a disgruntled exhale and fixed his piercing gaze on Charles.

"We have no problem with the Devolds as they are. Their money and connections are of great benefit, however, marriage is definitely out of the question. At least for a few more years."

Mrs. Chastain agreed with her husband’s words with a subtle nod and swiftly picked up his wind.

"We were fond of Virginia, we are fond of Ian, but Jane is nothing like either of them. Yes, she is well-behaved and docile, but the positive traits end there. And as for the marriage, she is only one of the candidates. The young man such as yourself should keep his mind open."

Charles felt a strange sense of anger mixed with disappointment.

He knew that Jane was not perfect, on the contrary, one might even call her flawed due to her laziness, poor health, and stuttering. And although he was sure that no one could love her as much as he did, especially since he was generous enough to overlook all of her flaws, the guy still knew that Jane had the right to accept the love and affection she was receiving for granted.

She was his Princess, she belonged to him.