My Cold-Hearted Husband Wants Me Back
Chapter 76: The Puppet Master of the Granthams

Chapter 76: The Puppet Master of the Granthams

Eryx stood in the grand hall of the mansion, his expression void of warmth as he looked at Matilda. If his mother was the first person he hated most in this world, then his grandmother didn’t even make the list because hate required some level of emotion, and Matilda was beyond that. She wasn’t someone to despise; she was something to be wary of. Pure, calculated evil.

She sat with her usual air of superiority, a glass of wine in one hand, watching him like he was just another pawn on her chessboard. The silence stretched between them, but Eryx didn’t speak first. He knew better than to play into her games.

Matilda took a slow sip before setting the glass down. "You kept me waiting."

Eryx’s jaw clenched. "Get to the point."

A faint smirk tugged at her lips, but her eyes remained cold. "Impatience doesn’t suit you, Eryx. But very well, let’s talk about your future."

"My future, my decision," he said firmly.

Matilda set her wine glass down with a soft clink, meeting his gaze without hesitation. "Not quite. As a Grantham, you are bound by family expectations. You don’t get to stray from the rules."

Eryx exhaled sharply, already tired of whatever scheme she had planned. "Spare me the lecture. Just say what you want."

Her expression remained unreadable, but there was a certain finality in her tone as she said, "Marriage."

His body tensed. "What?"

"You heard me," Matilda continued smoothly. "It’s time you settled down with someone fitting. A union that benefits the family."

Eryx let out a bitter laugh. "You want me to secure a business deal with a marriage? How predictable."

Matilda’s smirk returned. "I’d say practical. The Grantham legacy needs stability. A proper wife will ensure that."

His jaw clenched. "I already have a wife."

She raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering across her features. "Oh? That... secret arrangement of yours?" She waved a dismissive hand. "That doesn’t count. You will marry the woman I choose."

"Doesn’t count?" He sneered, his voice laced with quiet fury.

A dangerous silence followed.

Eryx’s fingers curled into fists. "And if I refuse?"

Matilda tilted her head, unfazed by his defiance. "Then you’ll lose everything." She took her time, letting the weight of her words settle. "Your title, your control over the company, and the respect that comes with being a Grantham."

Eryx held her gaze, unflinching. "You think any of that scares me?"

She chuckled, the sound as sharp as the edge of a blade. "No, I don’t. But I know what does."

His jaw tightened.

Matilda leaned forward, resting her elbows on the arm of her chair. "You’ve worked too hard to let it all crumble, haven’t you? You’ve fought for years to make sure no one sees your weaknesses." Her eyes gleamed with cold amusement. "I wonder... how long would you last if I decided to destroy them?"

Eryx knew exactly what she meant. The Granthams played their games with precision, and Matilda never made empty threats.

He could lose everything.

And for now, all he needed was a little more time. The time to make sure the woman in front of him would no longer be a threat.

Matilda tilted her head slightly, watching him like a predator amused by its prey. "You’re thinking, aren’t you? Calculating your next move." She smirked. "But no matter how much you think, the outcome remains the same. You’ll do as I say."

Eryx’s expression didn’t change, but the air around him shifted. He tilted his head slightly, letting a slow smirk curl on his lips. "If that’s what you believe, then I suppose I have no choice but to listen."

Matilda’s gaze narrowed, studying him carefully.

"I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, after all," he added smoothly, his tone unreadable.

A victorious gleam flickered in her eyes. "You’re finally learning."

Eryx didn’t confirm nor deny it. He let her believe she had won, letting her revel in the illusion of control. But deep down, he had already decided—he would not let her dictate his life. Not now. Not ever.

"Good," Matilda said, lifting her wine glass once more. "Expect the news about the engagement soon."

His cold eyes slightly furrowed, "And who’s the victim?"

Matilda chuckled, swirling the wine in her glass. "Oh, don’t be so dramatic. She’s from a respectable family. You should be pleased."

Eryx’s jaw tightened. "That doesn’t answer my question."

She sighed, as if indulging a stubborn child. "Valerie Sterling."

His fingers twitched. The Sterling, powerful, wealthy, and as ruthless as the Granthams. Valerie was no stranger to their world, and he knew exactly why Matilda had chosen her.

"Of course," he muttered, more to himself than to her. For now, his mind was calculating his own move as much as he calculated his grandmother’s next move. "Does she agree?"

Matilda shrugged. "I heard she’s an obedient child." Twirling the stem of her wine glass between her fingers, she added with a hint of amusement, "Not like you."

Eryx let out a humorless chuckle. "Obedient, huh? That must be convenient for you."

Matilda’s smirk remained. "I do prefer those who understand their place."

His grip tightened at his side, but he forced himself to stay composed. "And what exactly do you gain from this match?"

She tilted her head slightly, as if considering whether to humor him. Then, with a slow, deliberate sip of her wine, she replied, "Stability. Influence. And most importantly, ensuring that you don’t stray too far from the family’s expectations."

Eryx scoffed. "You mean ensuring I stay under your control."

Matilda’s chuckle was light, but her eyes darkened at his words.

Eryx tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a mirthless smile. "Father must be happy."

Her fingers paused on the wine glass, just for a second.

Eryx continued, his tone almost mocking. "After all, he was the first to escape you, wasn’t he?" His eyes flickered with something colder than anger—disdain. "Death must have been a relief."

Matilda’s smirk didn’t waver, but something in her gaze turned icier.

"He was a disappointment," she said, voice crisp, as if she were stating a simple fact. "Weak-willed. Unfit to carry the Grantham name."

Eryx let out a low chuckle, devoid of humor. "You keep telling yourself that."

Her expression didn’t shift. "I don’t need to. The proof is in the grave."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken battles.

Matilda leaned back, watching him like a queen studying a defiant subject. "And you, Eryx? Are you planning to disappoint me as well?"

"I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I am not your puppet." His voice was steady, controlled, but the ice in his tone was clear.

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, leaving behind the mansion that had never been a home, the one was only a reminder of a childhood shaped by control and cruelty.