Chapter 89
Chapter 89:
Grandpa Vance picked up a crab leg. He struggled with the cracker, the shells slipping in his fingers. A maid immediately stepped forward to assist him.
Elias looked at Aurora. She was staring at her plate, looking slightly unsure.
He looked at his own gloved hands. He wore thin, white cotton gloves at the dinner table—a quirk the family accepted.
He picked up the silver cracking tool.
The table went silent. Beatrice stopped chewing. Leo’s fork hovered in mid-air. Elias Thorne did not touch food with shells. Ever.
Elias reached for the largest crab leg. With surgical precision, he cracked the joint. Snap. He pulled the shell apart. He used a small fork to extract the meat in one perfect, intact piece.
He didn’t put it on his plate.
He reached over and placed the pristine white meat on Aurora’s plate.
“Eat,” Elias said. He didn’t look at her. He reached for a crawfish.
Aurora blinked. She looked at the meat, then at him. “Mr. Thorne, you don’t have to p>
“Protein is essential for cognitive function,” Elias stated, ripping the head off a crawfish with a sickening crunch. He peeled the tail with efficient, brutal movements. “You work too hard. You need fuel p>
He placed the crawfish tail on her plate. Then another. Then a crab claw.
He built a small mountain of seafood on her plate. He didn’t eat a single bite himself. His gloves were stained red with spice and oil. The sight was jarring—the pristine billionaire covered in sauce.
Leo leaned over to Beatrice. “He’s acting like a mother bird. It’s disturbing p>
“It’s romantic,” Beatrice whispered back, her eyes shining.
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Aurora ate. The food was delicious, spicy and rich. But the taste was secondary to the feeling in her chest—a warm, confusing tightness. No one had ever served her like this.
Sterling had always expected her to peel his shrimp.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Elias paused. He looked at her lips, stained slightly red from the spice. His gaze lingered for a second too long before he snapped back to the crab leg in his hand.
“Logic,” he muttered. “It is just logic p>
“By the way,” Leo said, wiping his mouth. “Isn’t someone’s birthday coming up? Next week, right, Aurora p>
Aurora nodded, taking a sip of water. “Yes. Tuesday. But I don’t really celebrate p>
Elias’s head snapped up. His eyes narrowed, cataloging the information. Tuesday. October 14th.
He dropped the crab tool. He stripped off his soiled gloves and dropped them onto a silver tray held by a waiting servant.
“Excuse me,” Elias said. He stood up. “I have… business to attend to p>
He walked out of the room. He didn’t go to his office. He went to the hallway and pulled out his phone. He opened his calendar. He typed AURORA in all caps on Tuesday.
He paused. He remembered a conversation they had weeks ago, when she mentioned her fascination with the history of Eastern medicine. She had spoken about a specific, lost manuscript from the Ming Dynasty regarding acupuncture meridians.