Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption-Chapter 280: Is she our next matriarch?
Chapter 280: Is she our next matriarch?
Lady Matilda hugged Jessica again and again, as though her arms could pull back the time lost between them. Each embrace was tender, trembling, yet unrelenting—as though she feared Jessica might vanish the moment she let go.
"You must have suffered greatly... when she died," she murmured, her voice thinned by grief, her brows furrowed with the weight of heartache
Her grip tightened slightly, as if the words had reopened an old wound.
"How was she, my Nora?" she asked, her voice cracking with emotion. "Did she live well? Or... did she suffer so much?"
The questions spilled out, unfiltered. For years, she had lived with them in the corners of her mind and in silence, these questions had lived and echoed within her yet she had never been able to answer them.
Has Nora eaten well?
Was she safe?
Who held her when she cried?
Who celebrated her when she succeeded?
Every time Lady Matilda had sat before the elaborate meals served by Santiago’s elite chefs, her heart would twist. Did her daughter dine with dignity—or simply survive?
Eventually, her uncertainty had pushed her into a life of charity and almsgiving. It was the only way she knew to atone for her helplessness.
She gave with one hope, one prayer: that somewhere, somehow, by feeding others, by giving warmth, hope, and comfort, some divine force would extend that grace to her daughter, wherever she might be and her daughter might find favor from above. frёeωebɳovel.com
Now, looking at Jessica—Nora’s image reborn, strong, graceful, and whole. She felt that perhaps, her prayers had been answered, not for Nora, but for the legacy she left behind.
Jessica held the elderly woman with gentle firmness, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. She could feel Lady Matilda’s heartbeat, thudding softly against her own, and she wished she had the power to undo her mother’s pain.
Gently, she offered comforting words, painting a picture of a mother who had lived with dignity and grace despite life’s burdens.
"She lived beautifully... strong, Jessica said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. "Step by step she pushed forward...day after day. Strong...Determined...never breaking, she never gave up."She concluded.
Still, a sting remained at the back of her throat. Behind those words was the memory of Nora’s pain—masked behind warm smiles, hidden behind late-night tears when she thought Jessica was asleep.
Jessica could still recall how her mother bore her suffering in silence, her heart heavy from a loveless marriage to George Brown.
Even as a child, Jessica had sensed it. Nora had stayed for her. Endured for her.
Now, the full weight of it settled on her chest like iron.
Jessica clenched her fists slightly. Her heart ached, her breath caught in her chest. "No matter the cost," she resolved silently, "George and that woman must pay for all she endured."
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
"My Lady," a maid announced gently, "the table is set. The family has arrived."
Lady Matilda composed herself, brushing a trembling hand across her cheek before rising.
"I’m sorry if this feels rushed," she said, turning to Jessica with a look of apology. "But I thought it right they all meet you today. I should’ve asked first."
Jessica inhaled slowly and gave her a gentle, faint, reassuring smile. "It’s fine. It’s family, after all."
That reply alone won Lady Matilda’s heart and deepened the pride in her heart. she couldn’t help feeling immense pride in Nora for raising a daughter with such poise.
She touched Jessica’s cheek briefly,then led the way down the grand hallway, their footsteps echoing softly on the polished marble.
The dining hall opened before them in opulent glory and they entered the grand dining hall together.
The crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a soft golden glow, and the long mahogany table gleamed under its light, every setting flawless.
Seated already were members of the Santiago family—well-dressed, sharp-eyed, and whispering amongst themselves. A hush fell across the room at the matriarch’s arrival.
Lady Matilda walked to the head of the table and took her seat with regal grace, motioning for Jessica to stand beside her. Then, with quiet authority, she addressed them all.
"I thank you for coming tonight," she began. "Many of you know there has always been a quiet absence in our family, an empty space where our daughter Nora should have been. So, today, we welcome back a piece of what was once lost."
A ripple of unease passed through the room.
"Well," she continued, lifting Jessica’s hand into hers, her voice calm but commanding. "her daughter is here now. Her name is Jessica Brown, she is our granddaughter, so in this house and in all the Santiagos’ properties, she shall be known and addressed as Jessica Santiago."
A ripple of murmurs ran through the table. Some gasped. Some exchanged knowing glances. Others stiffened, their eyes narrowing behind half-raised wine glasses.Some startled. Others plainly displeased.
Ignoring the subtle tension, Lady Matilda continued with unshakable authority.
"She belongs here. And moving forward, I expect her to be treated as such."
The tension in the room thickened.
Donald Santiago was the first to react. He rose to his feet, crossing the room in a few strides and wrapping Jessica in a warm, genuine hug.
"Welcome home, Niece," he said with a smile full of relief and sincerity. He never expected the situation to come to conclusion this easy. But seeing the result now, he was grateful this step was taken.
But then, a pain tugged at his heart, he wished he had seen his sister before she died.
Donald action broke the dam as a few others followed—some with genuine warmth, others out of obligation. But not all rose. Not all smiled.
Several sat stiffly, their eyes narrowed, some masks cracking ever so slightly.
Several others offered tight-lipped smiles or fleeting nods. A few, however, stared at their plates, clearly displeased yet unwilling to openly oppose the matriarch.
Jessica smiled politely, but she saw it all—the envy, the subtle resistance, the silent calculations being made.
After the welcoming, Lady Matilda took a deep breath and casting a fleeting glance at Jessica, noting her composure, grace and poise gave her a thumbs up in her heart and a nod of approval.
She gently patted the chair beside her.
"Jessica, sit here."
Mouths twitched. Forks paused mid-air. That seat—next to the matriarch—was symbolic. Reserved for the heir. It hadn’t been filled since Lord Santiago passed.
And now... Jessica had been placed in it.
An audible shift of posture moved around the room. Expressions darkened. The unspoken hierarchy had been disrupted.
The rule was clear: where one sat at the table signified their rank in the family. For Lady Matilda to place Jessica at her right hand... it spoke volumes.
A chill of realization passed through the family. She’s being positioned as the next matriarch.
Glances were exchanged amongst them as a silent question tugged at their lips.
"Is she our next matriarch?"
Jessica offered a composed smile and sat down gracefully, but inside her "So... I’ve just earned enemies I haven’t even met yet." Jessica thoughts sharpened. "I must thread carefully."
Lady Matilda smiled faintly. "Let’s dig in."
The sound of cutlery clinking followed, though the atmosphere remained taut.
Just as Jessica picked up her fork, her phone buzzed. Every head turned towards her. She glanced at Lady Matilda, offering a silent glance of apology and permission.
"Take your call, dear," the old woman said gently.
Everyone at the table exchanged glances between them. Yet no words were said.
Jessica excused herself, slipping away quietly. A maid—the same one who had served her water—stood waiting and guided her politely toward the hallway leading to the guest restroom.
Once alone, Jessica exhaled, she took out her phone, glancing at the familiar name glowing on the screen, her eyes stung.
She slid her finger across the screen.
"Babe, are you okay?" came his voice—low, soothing, and full of concern.
Hearing the sound of his voice unlocked the emotions she had bottled inside of her when she was talking with Lady Matilda Her throat tightened, her chest hollowed out with longing and the waterworks threatening to burst open.
"I... I miss you," she whispered, her voice faltering. "I just wish you were here to... to hug me."
"I’m outside," he said without hesitation.
She froze. "What?"
"I’m outside the Santiago estate."
"You’re—?"
"Yes, you can come out or are you busy?"
Her breath caught. Jessica nearly dropped the phone. She stared down the corridor, heart pounding. He’s really here...
This was one surprise she never expected. He had really come for her and every part of her wanted to run out and throw herself into his arms.
But she couldn’t—not yet. Not in the middle of dinner. Not when so many eyes were watching.
"Wait for me," she said quietly, then ended the call.
Her heartbeat still racing not with trepidation or fear but happiness that no matter what happens here—Someone is outside waiting for her.
But as she slid the phone back into her pocket, a prickle crept across her skin. A strange sense of being watched. Followed. Hunted.
She turned subtly. The hallway was still. The maid was no longer in sight. Yet, she could sense the presence of a person around.
She took a deep breath gathering her composure ready to meet whoever it is.
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