Passion's Crossfire

Chapter 91

Mallory

Adam and I find our assigned seats, a bit perplexed after the strange interaction with the Vanguards. The atmosphere around their intentions is as murky as ever—either they don't want their daughter to marry Adam, or they're incredibly skilled at concealing their true feelings. It's so strange and, honestly, a bit frustrating.

As the evening progresses, Adam's father rises from his seat and heads to the stage, microphone in hand, to deliver a speech. I'm genuinely impressed by his eloquence and leadership. It's evident why his business is thriving under his guidance. The audience responds with applause, acknowledging his words. After his speech, he returns to our table, radiating pride, and dinner is served.

The courses are a gastronomic delight, each dish surpassing the previous one. I engage in lively conversation with Adam, his father, and the other guests seated at our table. It's a mix of business talk, anecdotes, and light banter. Adam's mother remains conspicuously silent, her gaze fixed on me with a glare that could freeze time. But I refuse to let her intimidation tactics get under my skin. Right now, in the midst of polite and engaging conversations, her disapproval doesn't bother me.

The lavish banquet continues in full swing, the clinking of fine china and the soft hum of conversation creating a symphony of wealth and elegance. The table is adorned with decadent desserts, a sweet conclusion to the opulent affair. Feeling the need for a moment of respite, I politely excuse myself and make my way to the bathroom.

Once inside, I glance at my reflection in the mirror, relieved to see that my makeup has withstood the evening's festivities. The vibrant red lipstick I chose to wear tonight remains intact; a bold choice that complements the exquisite champagne silk dress Adam gifted me for the occasion. As I lean on the sink, taking a deep breath; God, we are halfway through.

The door behind me creaks open, and, through the mirror, I catch a glimpse of Adam's mother entering the bathroom. Her presence sends an unexpected shiver down my spine. I turn to face her, and as I do, she locks the door behind her. The air thickens with tension, and I brace myself for whatever confrontation lies ahead.

"I hope you're enjoying the evening," Mrs. Christensen says, her voice carrying a polite tone that barely conceals an underlying coldness.

"Thank you, Mrs. Christensen. The event is truly splendid," I reply, keeping my tone steady.

Mrs. Christensen takes a deliberate few steps towards me, her piercing eyes narrowing. The dim lighting accentuates the severity of her expression. "Let me make something clear to you, my dear. Adam's future is not with someone like you. It's a charming affair for now, but it will never evolve into anything substantial. Save yourself the heartache and leave him. Now."

I maintain my composure, refusing to be intimidated by the woman before me. "I appreciate your concern, Mrs. Christensen, but Adam and I are quite capable of determining our own future."

Her eyes darken further, and she leans in, her voice now a venomous whisper that chills me to the bone. "Don't mistake his fleeting affection for something permanent. You are not the kind of woman he needs by his side. Leave him before you tarnish his future or you will regret it."

The gravity of her threat lingers in the air, and for a moment, I'm frozen. I meet Mrs. Christensen's gaze with defiance, refusing to let her dictate the course of my relationship with Adam.

"I won't be intimidated, Mrs. Christensen," I say, my voice firm. "Adam and I have something real, and we'll decide our future together."

"Stupid girl, don't you get how powerful we are? I will destroy you; you will beg for mercy after I am done with you. I will make you regret getting involved with my son; you'll see!" she sneers.

Unfazed, I take a step towards the door, my resolve unshaken. "I'd like to see you try," I retort, my voice steady. Mrs. Christensen turns abruptly and leaves, her parting gaze filled with disdain. I exhale a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, my hand coming to rest on the cool surface of the bathroom wall. Well, an uneventful night was too good to be true.

Leaning against the wall, I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, attempting to steady my racing heart. The weight of the confrontation settles on my shoulders, but I refuse to let it crush me. After composing myself, I turn to face the mirror. My reflection stares back at me, a mix of determination and resilience. She won't scare me. I won't lose Adam because of her. Yet, I can't deny that she was a little scary. Pushing the unsettling thoughts aside, I straighten up and exit the bathroom.

Returning to our table, I take a seat next to Adam, who greets me with a warm smile. His arm wraps around my waist, and I lean into him, seeking comfort in his embrace. His mother watches us, her gaze fixed on me. I turn and press a gentle kiss on Adam's lips. As I pull away, I meet her gaze with a defiant stare. She may have tried to rattle me, but I won't let her get between us.

As the music plays, Adam takes my hand, his touch reassuring and steady. He brings it to his lips with a tender kiss, his gaze never leaving mine. "Do you want to dance?" he asks, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"I thought you would never ask," I reply, my smile mirroring his. We rise from our seats, our hands entwined, and make our way to the dance floor. The rhythmic sway of the music and the warmth of Adam's embrace gradually erase the lingering echoes of his mother's threats. He has a remarkable ability to make me forget the world around us, even if just for a moment.

We continue to dance, oblivious to the world around us. When we eventually return to our table, we find Adam's father sitting alone, his wife conspicuously absent. "Ava went home, she said she was tired," he informs us, and I take a deep breath, relieved. Thank God.

"That went even better than I thought," Adam remarks to his father before turning to me. His expression falters when he sees mine. "What's wrong, baby?" he asks, concern etched on his face.

Your crazy mother threatened me in the bathroom, that's what wrong. "Well, your mother followed me to the bathroom... She threatened me to leave you, Adam. She said I will regret it if I don't," I say, choosing my words carefully.

Anger flashes in Adam's eyes as he processes my words. "Sweetheart, nothing is going to happen to you. I won't allow it, okay?" Mr. Christensen reassures me with a gentle smile.

"She is crazy if she thinks she will succeed again. Dad, I swear, if she even tries anything, she will never see me again," Adam declares, his anger palpable.

"Son, calm down. She won't try anything, and even if she does, she won't get what she wants," Mr. Christensen advises, attempting to soothe his son's frayed nerves.

I interlace my fingers with Adam's, offering a comforting squeeze. "Adam, there is nothing she can do to make me leave you," I assure him, my voice steady.

"I'll talk to your mother, address the situation. For now, enjoy the rest of the evening," Mr. Christensen offers, a reassuring tone in his voice. Adam nods, his frustration still simmering beneath the surface.

Mr. Christensen leaves us alone, and Adam, still seething with the frustration from his mother's antics, wraps an arm around my waist. Pulling me closer, he cups my cheek with his other hand and looks into my eyes, his gaze now tinged with sadness.

"Mallory, it's not fair that you're going through all of this for me, I—" he begins, but I won't let him finish. I reach up, holding the hand on my cheek, and firmly say, "Don't you dare finish that sentence, Adam. I'm here no matter what. I love you so much, you don't even know. I won't be scared away; it's you, baby. Only you."

A smile plays on Adam's lips, happiness evident in his eyes as he pulls me in for a tender kiss. "I love you too" he whispers, his breath stroking my lips.