Arthur’s knife scraped against the china—a sharp, violent sound. He finally looked up, his eyes like flint. "Julian was a ghost, Claire. And ghosts don't have a seat at this table."
"The merger is finalized," Arthur said, not looking up from his steak. "Elias, you’ll be lead counsel. It’s time you earned the office." Incest Story
The dinner table at the Sterling estate didn’t seat people; it seated grudges. And ghosts don't have a seat at this table
Elias looked between them, the world he had spent thirty years trying to fit into suddenly feeling like a house of cards. He realized then that his father’s coldness wasn't just discipline; it was distance—the distance of a man who looked at his son and saw a rival’s face. "Is it true?" Elias whispered. Elias looked between them, the world he had
"I’m not here for the business," Claire said, her voice steady. "I’m here for the truth. I found Mom’s letters, Dad. The ones from 1994. The ones addressed to Julian."