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 hfor 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 mealtdiscipline. 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.

Her eyes slowly swept over the table, observing the bowed heads and sidelong glances. Then, she cleared her

throat softly yet it echoed with authority.

"We are expecting a guest this evening for dinner."

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A ripple went through the room at the bombshell.

"A guest?" someone echoed, the voice tentative, as murmurs bubbled and whispered glances exchanged like

nervous electricity.

Before the noise could escalate, Lady Matilda raised her hand ever so slightly. Silence returned as quickly as it

had broken. Her tone sharpened, but remained poised.

"Yes. A guest," she repeated. "She is not just any guest—she is my benefactor... and coincidentally the

granddaughter of the Santiago family."

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

died on lips, forks froze mid-air.

Shock twisted across several faces—sblinked in disbelief, others exchanged questioning glances.

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

Matilda paused. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, swept across the table, gauging reactions. Slooked

stunned. Others wary. But none dared to interrupt again.

After a pause, she continued, her voice soft but firm.

"Many years ago, the Santiago family suffered a great loss. The loss of a daughter, my daughter. Despite every

effort, she was never found. But we never gave up hope."

She drew in a breath, and her fingers lightly brushed against the rim of her tea cup.

"Providence, in its strange mercy, has answered our prayers not with my daughter... but with her child. Her

daughter. Our blood."

A wave of stunned silence swept the room again. Eyes widened. Backs stiffened.

"She has returned to this country. And though she was raised away from us—unknowing of her origin—the bond

of blood cannot be erased by tor circumstance. She is family."

There was a stillness in her words, heavy with the weight of the past.

"I have extended my hand in welcome. She will dine with us this evening. You will all be present—and you will

treat her with the respect that is due to a Santiago by birth."

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

barely concealing their apprehension.

Lady Matilda glanced around one final time. Her next words were gentle but edged with warning.

"She is coming home. And | will not tolerate resistance, arrogance, or scheming. Not from anyone."

Her gaze lingered on certain individuals longer than others before she finally nodded toward the steward at the

door.

"We can go around your business for the day but you have to return on tfor dinner. | hope | have made

myself clear?"

They all nodded in understanding and after a bit of seconds chairs scraped softly against the floor as members

rose slowly. The silence was no longer traditional but with tension, curiosity, and uncertainty.

As the last chair was pushed in and

the dining hall doors closed behind

the retreating famjlyiemtsers 0

sffenge bettled fe a heavy fog. The

room, once filled with quiet clinks of

silverware and murmurs, now echoed

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Lady Matilda Santiago took a deep

breath as she rested her back on the

chair remaining seajed pt Behe of

the lang table! Ser posture was

upright and graceful as ever, but her

hands now resting gently in her lap

were slightly clenched. The content is

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chapter there!

She stared at the empty plates and half-full glasses left behind, her gaze distant, as though seeing beyond the

walls of the room.

Her eyes, sharp with wisdom and age, glistened with memories of the past.

So many years had passed. So many

prayers whispered in silence. Sou

many nights spent Wohdering where

her dau {&r had gone, and if fate

would ever bring back a piece of her.

And now, that thad come. The

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the latest chapter there!

But more troublesbecause she knew it wouldn't be easy.

The soft creak of the door drew her attention. One of the older maids, Margaret who had served the family for

decades stepped in quietly.

"Ma'am... shall | clear the table?" she asked gently.

Lady Matilda nodded once but didn’t move. "Margaret," she said, stopping the maid just as she was about to

collect a plate.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Make sure everything for tonight's dinner is perfect. Pay attention to details. She must feel welcomed. She must

feel... safe."

"Yes, Lady Matilda," the maid replied with a slight bow before getting to work.

With her instructions acknowledged, Lady Matilda rose to her feet. Her joints protested, but her will was stronger

than her bones.

She steadied herself, straightened her pearl-white blouse, and looked once more around the grand hall. With

that, she walked out of the dining hall, her steps measured and sure.