Golden Melody (Editing)

Chapter 60

Chapter 60: Silver Spoons & Loaded Guns

Zatariel's Point of View

Lunch with the President of the Republic.

That sentence alone could send most people into a full-blown anxiety attack.

For us? Just another Sunday with a side of political suffocation.

The dining hall looked like someone had tried to trap the sky indoors. Gold-leafed walls gleamed beneath glass ceilings so high they swallowed the clouds. Chandeliers hung overhead like miniature galaxies.

At the long polished table, every seat belonged to someone powerful.

Ministers. Donors. Diplomats.

Their names rested on gold-trimmed cards. Their smiles rested on ambition.

The nation's elite was feasting on itself.

I took a sip of sparkling water and mentally calculated how many cameras I'd need to short-circuit to get everyone out of here alive.

And then someone had to ruin lunch.

Reynold Richmond.

Heir to the Richmond conglomerate.
Wayne Academy's Section One sophomore prince.
Groom Candidate No. 5 in Miexha's collector's-edition nightmare.

He walked past Miexha's chair—

—and "accidentally" tipped his glass.

Water spilled across her dress.

Asha shot to her feet. "What the actual—?!"

Jayson moved instantly, pushing Richmond aside and grabbing a napkin to blot the water from Miexha's sleeve.

Richmond only snorted.

"She's cute, sure," he said casually. "But I wouldn't marry a girl with a disability."

He glanced at Jayson with a smug grin.

"Right, Jayson? You don't actually like her. You're just doing what you're told. Good obedient boy."

Every fork froze mid-air. The silence turned sharp enough to cut glass.

My stomach dropped.

I wanted very sincerely to punch his stupid face through the nearest chandelier.

Miexha flinched. The spoon in her hand trembled. Her smile wavered.

Across the table, Jayson's expression didn't change—but the killing aura around him became almost visible.

My chair scraped back, instinct kicking in.

I was about to break Richmond's nose.

But Asha moved first.

PAK!

Her palm cracked across Richmond's face.

The entire hall froze.

Conversations died.

Heads turned.

Her eyes burned. "You piece of Shit—"

I grabbed her wrist before she could launch herself across the table and commit homicide.

"Breathe," I hissed under my breath.
"Not here. They'll twist it."

Every eye in the room locked on her.

Her parents.

The ministers.