They did nothing. They said nothing. They were always like that—terrified of Claire’s sharp tongue, leaving me completely isolated, a human shield for her arrogance.
I opened my mouth, a defensive, shaky reply forming on my lips, but before I could speak, Ethan’s hand found mine under the table. His grip was firm, warm, and incredibly grounding.
He didn’t look angry. He didn’t flush with embarrassment. Ethan simply set his knife down, dabbed his mouth with a linen napkin, and looked directly at Claire. His eyes were calm, but they held a steady, unwavering weight.
“It’s my grandmother’s heirloom, Claire,” Ethan said smoothly, his voice devoid of any defensive edge. “It survived a world war and six decades of a happy marriage. Hannah cherishes the history behind it. We believe the value of a marriage is built on the foundation of the people in it, not the price tag of the jewelry.”
Claire blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by his calm rebuttal. Then, she recovered, offering a patronizing shrug and ending her attack with a mask of fake innocence.
“How sweet,” she murmured, taking another sip of wine. “Very romantic, Ethan. Truly.”
She turned the conversation back to herself, launching into a story about her recent promotion.
I looked down at my gold ring, squeezing Ethan’s hand under the table in gratitude.
Claire had called my ring cheap because she only understood the price tag of a diamond. She couldn’t comprehend the value of a legacy. She thought she had thoroughly humiliated the “average guy” her sister was settling for.
She had absolutely no idea that the man she had just mocked as stingy, the man sitting quietly across from her eating a medium-rare steak, was the very person who could buy her entire corporate life outright with a single phone call.
