Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 274: Announcing the dinner...

~The Santiago family house~

The sun had already begun its gentle ascent into the sky, casting a golden ray of light over the lush gardens.

The morning air was cool and crisp, and a delicate breeze whispered through the blooming flowers, carrying with it a fragrant breath of serenity.

In the large dining hall, a long polished mahogany table stretched with quiet majesty, several members of the Santiago family sat in order of age and seniority.

At the head of the table sat Lady Matilda Santiago, the formidable matriarch of the household. Her presence exuding grace, nobility and silent authority,

Beside her was Donald Santiago, the heir apparent. His composure poised, attentive, and reserved, his expression as usual gentle yet unreadable.

The table was lined with the nuclear and extended Santiago bloodline—sons, daughters, their spouses, and children and all residents of the vast Santiagos’ estate.

"They had all gathered for one purpose—their weekly family gathering. The Santiago family has a long-standing tradition that requires all members to return home for the weekly mealtime."

Maids moved swiftly and quietly between them as they refills glasses, passing trays, and ensuring each person’s’s needs were met.

Immediately the meal was served, they resumed eating and silence filled the hall. It had always being a long-standing rule of the Santiago household and yet still governed the table: no one spoke during meals.

Conversations, disputes, or casual remarks were considered a breach of mealtime discipline. Meals were eaten in silence—a tradition meant to instill mindfulness, reflection, and restraint.

The only sound was the gentle clinking of cutlery against porcelain. Lady Matilda’s hands moved with elegance, her expression unreadable. Her dignified demeanor served as a silent warning that any breach of conduct would not be tolerated.

When the last mouthfuls were taken and the dishes nearly cleared, she placed her cutlery down with a soft but deliberate clink. Like clockwork, the others followed suit—still in silence, waiting.

It was custom after breakfast for announcements, rebukes, or family deliberations to take place and no one left until the matriarch either dismissed them or delivered her word.

heads and sidelong glances. Then, she

are expecting a guest this evening for

went through the room

the voice tentative, as murmurs bubbled and whispered

her hand ever so slightly. Silence returned as quickly as it had

repeated. "She is not just any guest—she

landed like a thunderclap, like a heavy stone in water. The entire room went silent as conversations died

several faces—some blinked in disbelief, others

few gasped outright. Expressions of shock, disbelief, and curiosity appeared one by

swept across the table, gauging reactions. Some looked stunned. Others wary. But

she continued, her voice soft

a great loss. The loss of a daughter, my daughter. Despite

in a breath, and her fingers lightly brushed against the rim of

its strange mercy, has answered our prayers not with

swept the

was raised away from us—unknowing of her origin—the bond of blood cannot be erased

stillness in her words, heavy with the weight of

my hand in welcome. She will dine with us this evening. You will all be present—and you will treat her with the

slightly, a sigh of relief striking flashing across his face yet he said nothing. Others looked away,

glanced around one final time. Her

coming home. And I will not tolerate resistance, arrogance, or scheming.

longer than others before she finally nodded

you have to return on

a bit of seconds chairs scraped softly against the floor as members rose slowly. The