Chapter 7: Queen on the Water

“Harrison, what happened to your hand?” Mr. Whitmore asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern. Harrison flexed his fingers, unfazed.

“A cat scratched me,” Harrison replied, cool as ever.

He shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching. I bit back a smile, catching the reference.

“How careless!” Dad scolded, shaking his head, already picturing a scar marring Harrison’s perfect image.

“I was careful,” Harrison said, propping his chin and glancing at me. “But that kitten had claws—and it struck hard.”

He let his gaze linger, a private challenge in his eyes. The implication was clear enough.

As he spoke, his eyes flicked to my hair bun, then back.

He seemed to be searching for evidence, a silent accusation. I tucked a stray strand behind my ear, feigning innocence.

He smiled at me: “But it wasn’t its fault. I touched its belly first.”

The room burst into laughter, tension finally breaking. I smiled sweetly, matching his game move for move.

Under the table, I clenched my fingers, giving him a wide-eyed, apologetic look.

I let a little guilt show, my act flawless after years of practice.

“Just now…”

“Just now, I was handling company business and kept you waiting,” he cut in, his smile growing. “My little childhood friend.”

He winked, the corners of his mouth twitching up. I blushed on cue, lowering my gaze.

I pressed my lips together, eyes lowered, playing the bashful, helpless girl.

I fluttered my lashes, the picture of Southern sweetness. The room seemed to approve, nodding at my demure act.

Mr. Whitmore gave Harrison a look: “Don’t tease. Savannah’s a quiet girl—be nice.”

He said it with uncle-like sternness, but his eyes sparkled. Harrison lifted his hands in mock surrender.

“Oh?” Harrison chuckled. “Quiet? Yeah, she is.”

He shot me a look, amusement dancing in his eyes. I hid my smile behind my napkin.

After dinner, Dad took my stepmother and Harper away, leaving Harrison and me alone on purpose.

He made a show of checking his Rolex, then hustled them out. Harper pouted, but he waved her off.

Harper left reluctantly, shooting daggers at me the whole way.