The kitchen staff had prepared a massive feast for dinner. There were plates of roasted duck, bowls of hot, steaming soup, fresh vegetables, and soft bread.

Duke Carson sat comfortably at the very head of the table. Damon sat on his right side, and Camilla beside him.

To the old Duke, looking from the outside, they looked like a perfectly happy, beautiful young family.

But underneath the polite smiles and the soft candlelight, Damon and Camilla were absolutely at each other’s throats.

Camilla picked up her fork. She stabbed a piece of roasted duck with a little bit too much force. She needed to punish him for depriving her of her Maldives experience, twice. She turned her head and smiled the sweetest, most innocent smile at her husband.

"Grandfather," Camilla spoke softly, keeping her eyes locked onto Damon. "You have absolutely no idea how incredibly hard my husband works. He is so dedicated to his duties."

She placed the piece of duck into her mouth and chewed slowly, her dark eyes flashing with a wicked, sarcastic light.

"Just today," Camilla continued, her voice dripping with hidden meaning, " after the dressmaker’s place, he was personally inspecting some new... local establishments in the city. He has such a heavy, tiring workload."

Damon stopped cutting his meat. He gripped his knife tightly. He knew exactly what she was talking about.

Damon turned his head. He gave her a very handsome, very cold smile. His eyes stared right through her fake sweetness.

"My wife is far too kind," Damon retaliated smoothly. He looked at Duke Carson, playing the part of a loving husband. "She is the one who truly works hard, Grandfather. She is so deeply charitable. She spent her time closely evaluating six very poor, needy young men. She just wanted to give them her... personal attention."

Camilla’s sweet smile twitched. Her right eye narrowed.

She thought to herself, her internal voice hissing angrily. "You terrible hypocrite! You are the one who threw me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes!"

Camilla let out a bright, highly forced laugh.

"Oh, my Lord," Camilla chuckled, her voice tight. She spoke to him through completely gritted teeth, keeping her lips pulled up in a smile. "You are too modest. You are the one who knows how to handle a situation quickly."

Damon did not let her win. He decided to remind her exactly who was in charge, and to remind her of the secret deal they had made in the hallway.

Damon casually lowered his left hand below the level of the table, completely out of his grandfather’s sight. He reached across the small space between their chairs.

His large, warm hand found her small hand resting on her lap.

Damon grabbed her hand firmly. He wrapped his long fingers around hers. And then, he squeezed.

He did not squeeze hard enough to break her bones, but he squeezed firmly enough to send a very clear, very serious physical warning.

"Remember our deal," Damon thought to himself, staring at her with a calm, smiling face. His internal voice was a strict command. "You get one wish. Behave yourself, or the deal is completely off."

Camilla felt the strong, sudden pressure on her hand. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise at his bold move.

She tried to pull her hand away, but his grip was like an iron cage.

"How dare he touch me like that under the table?" Camilla thought, her mind boiling with annoyance. "He thinks he can just squeeze my hand and control me? I too can do the same."

Camilla kept her sweet, adoring smile perfectly plastered on her face. She looked deeply into Damon’s eyes.

"I am just so lucky to have you," Camilla whispered sweetly through her teeth.

At the exact same time, below the table, Camilla moved her foot. She lifted her leg slightly. She aimed very carefully.

She brought the hard heel of her shoe down directly onto the top of Damon’s leather boot. She stepped on his foot with all of her body weight, grinding her heel downward without any mercy.

Damon’s entire body stiffened instantly.

A sharp, sudden pain shot through his foot. His jaw clamped shut so tightly his teeth almost cracked. The muscles in his neck jumped.

"You little..." Damon cursed her loudly inside his own mind, his internal voice filled with shock and pain.

But outwardly, Damon did not make a single sound. He did not pull his foot away. He simply smiled even wider, though the smile looked a little bit strained around the edges.

He squeezed her hand a tiny bit tighter. She pressed her heel a tiny bit harder.

They were locked in a secret, painful physical battle right under the tablecloth, all while gazing into each other’s eyes like two deeply foolish people in love.

Duke Carson, sitting at the head of the table, watched them staring at each other. He took a sip of his red wine.

"It is wonderful to see you two getting along so perfectly," Carson announced happily, placing his crystal glass back onto the table. "Marriage takes patience, but I can clearly see the strong bond between you."

Camilla and Damon both turned their heads slowly toward the old Duke. They were both still secretly hurting each other under the table.

"Yes, Grandfather," Damon and Camilla replied at the exact same time, both of them wearing perfectly matching, highly strained, fake smiles.

Uncle Murry stood quietly by the wall, pouring more water for the Duke. He watched the young couple closely, feeling incredibly proud of the romantic atmosphere in the room.

After a long, tense hour of eating, the dinner finally came to an end. The plates were cleared away by the silent maids.

Duke Carson wiped his mouth with a clean white linen napkin. He placed the napkin onto the table and used his cane to push himself up from his chair.

"Well," Carson announced his departure, stretching his old back slightly. "The food was excellent, but the night is growing very dark. I must return to the main estate."

Damon immediately stood up from his chair. He let go of Camilla’s hand completely. He stepped back from the table, bowing his head respectfully to the old Duke.

"I will see you to your carriage, Grandfather," Damon offered, ready to perform his duties as the host of the mansion.

But Duke Carson quickly raised his hand in the air, shaking his head side to side to stop his grandson.

"Nonsense," Carson replied firmly, giving Damon a very knowing, highly meaningful look.

Carson pointed his silver cane toward Camilla, who was still sitting in her chair.

"Look at your beautiful wife," Carson instructed smoothly. "She is clearly exhausted from all the activities you two did all day. You must take your wife upstairs to the room immediately. You two need to rest."

Carson turned his head and gestured toward the older housekeeper standing by the wall.

"Murry will see me off to my carriage," Carson declared finally. "Go on, Damon. Take care of your wife."

Damon could not argue with the head of the family. He bowed deeply again.

"Yes, Grandfather. Have a safe journey home," Damon replied.

Damon walked around the table to Camilla’s chair. He held his hand out to her, playing the role of the perfect, attentive husband.

Camilla took his hand. She stood up gracefully. She smiled sweetly at the old Duke and offered a very polite, elegant curtsy.

"Goodnight, Grandfather," Camilla said softly. "It was an absolute pleasure to see you again."

"Goodnight, my dear child," Carson smiled warmly at her.

Damon placed his hand gently on the lower part of Camilla’s back. He guided her smoothly out of the dining room and toward the large staircase in the foyer. They walked closely together, maintaining their perfect loving act until they were completely out of the Duke’s sight.

As they walked up the stairs, Damon quickly dropped his hand from her back. He rubbed his sore foot. Camilla quickly let go of his hand, rubbing her squeezed knuckles. They continued walking to the master bedroom in total, highly annoyed silence.