The Raise of James Morrison.

Chapter 10

"Poor Emily. She's got the Anderson name, the Anderson looks, the Anderson breeding but she's stuck with a maid's fate, isn't she?"

"Absolutely tragic!" Julia agreed, pressing a hand to her chest in mock distress. "All that potential, completely wasted!"

"You know what?" Stephanie said, her eyes glittering with malice. "We should actually thank James! He took Emily out of the running for us! One less competitor to worry about!"

The women dissolved into peals of laughter, high-pitched and cruel, echoing off the vaulted ceilings.

Emily kept her head bowed, her hair falling forward to hide her burning face. Her hands trembled at her sides, fingernails digging into her palms hard enough to leave marks. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted to disappear.

But she couldn't. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

So she stood there, frozen, drowning in humiliation while the laughter crashed over her in waves.

Meanwhile, James stood in his corner, completely still, his eyes fixed on the doorway where the messenger had vanished. He barely registered the mocking voices, the cruel laughter, the sneering faces. His mind was elsewhere, turning over possibilities, connections, implications.

Interesting. Very, very interesting.

He knew exactly who had sent those gifts. The question was: why? Was it an olive branch? An apology? Some kind of guilt-driven compensation for three years of abandonment?

If they thought a television and some cash could make up for what he'd endured, they were insane.

He didn't need their gifts. He didn't need their money.

He didn't need them at ALL.

"Alright, that's ENOUGH."

Grandma Anderson's voice cut through the noise like a judge's gavel. She cleared her throat sharply, her cane tapping against the floor. "Stop this childish bickering immediately. We have no idea who the Morrison family is interested in yet if anyone. I'll keep the gifts safe for now. When the family reveals their intentions and names someone specific, that person can come to me to collect what's theirs."

She swept her gaze across the room, daring anyone to argue.

Nobody did. When Margaret Anderson spoke, people listened.

"Good. Now, let's continue with the celebration like civilized human beings."

The tension eased slightly. Conversations resumed, though the excitement was palpable, buzzing beneath every word. The mysterious Morrison family and their extravagant gifts dominated every discussion.

Emily finally lifted her head, her jaw tight, her eyes suspiciously bright. She didn't look at James. She didn't look at anyone. She just stood there, breathing slowly, holding herself together by sheer force of will.

Marcus appeared at her side, his hand settling on her shoulder. "You okay?" he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

"I'm fine," Emily said flatly.

"You don't look fine." His thumb brushed her shoulder too familiar, too comfortable. "Listen, if you ever want to talk about... options... I'm here. You know that, right?"

"Let's be honest here," Marcus continued, moving closer. "Let's call it what it is. You shouldn't be with James anymore. You just shouldn't."

He gestured toward the young man, his expression a mix of pity and disgust.

"What does he have that I can't give you? Seriously. What? Tell me one thing just one thing that he can offer you that I can't."

The room had gone quiet again, everyone watching.

"He has nothing," Derek said, his voice rising. "Nothing at all. No money. No connections. No future. He's dragging you down, and everyone here can see it."

Emily's hands trembled at her sides.

"But I'm willing to overlook all of it," Derek said, softening his tone like he was being generous. "All the embarrassment. All the humiliation you've suffered because of him. The way people talk about you behind your back. The way your reputation has been damaged just by being associated with him."

He paused, letting the words sink in.

"I'll forget all of that. I'll look past it. If you divorce him. Right here. Right now."

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"Put him in his place," Derek said quietly. "End this mistake. And let me give you the life you actually deserve."

Grandma Anderson's eyes went wide.

She hadn't expected this. Not this boldly. Not this publicly.

But the moment Derek said it, her mind started racing. This was perfect. This was the opportunity she'd been waiting for.

She moved quickly, her cane tapping against the marble as she crossed to Emily.

"Listen to him," Grandma Anderson said urgently, gripping Emily's arm. "This is your chance. Not just with Marcus though he's an excellent choice, don't misunderstand me. But look at all these gifts."

She gestured toward the mountain of presents still sitting in the hall.

"Someone powerful is interested in this family. In one of our daughters. You could be in the running for that too, you know. You're still young. Still beautiful. But only if you're free."

Her fingers tightened on Emily's arm.

"Marcus is a good man. A wealthy man. A man with a future. And compared to James?" She let out a sharp laugh.

"There's no comparison. James is nothing. He will always be nothing."

Emily stared at her grandmother, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Divorce him," Grandma Anderson said, her voice dropping to an intense whisper.

"Right now. End this. Free yourself. Take Marcus's offer, or take your chances with whoever sent those gifts. Either way, you win."

Her eyes gleamed.

"But you have to do it now. This moment won't last forever."