Alden Fairbourne was seized by his necktie as his fiancée Sloane Mercer

The word "murder" echoed off the stone walls of the estate, freezing the blood of the fifty guests gathered around the tables. The bright, luminous colors of the garden seemed to drain away, leaving only the stark, horrifying reality of Sloane’s confession.

Sloane’s mouth opened and closed, her eyes darting wildly as she realized the catastrophic mistake she had just made. The adrenaline and the public humiliation had pushed her to justify her actions, and in doing so, she had admitted to the unthinkable.

"No! I didn't say that!" Sloane shouted, her voice shrill and desperate. "I said she was weak! Her heart gave out! I just... I just didn't call the doctors right away! It was her time, Alden!"

"Did you withhold her medication, Sloane?" Alden asked, his voice dangerously quiet, taking a slow step closer to her.

"You can't prove anything!" Sloane shrieked, looking frantically up at her two bodyguards. "Shoot him! He's threatening me! I order you to shoot him right now!"

The Black American bodyguard looked down at the woman on the grass, then looked at Alden. The Fairbourne boss was standing completely still, his broad shoulders squared, a terrifying aura of violence radiating from him. The guard slowly raised his hands, palms outward, and took two deliberate steps backward, distancing himself completely from Sloane.

The white American bodyguard hesitated, his hand resting on the grip of the pistol inside his jacket.

"Do you truly want to die today defending a woman who poisons wives and steals rings off corpses?" Alden asked, shifting his cold, unwavering gaze to the hesitating guard.

The guard swallowed hard, the Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He looked at the fifty guests—many of whom were Fairbourne loyalists—who were now staring at him with lethal intent. He slowly removed his hand from his jacket and stepped back to join his partner.

Sloane was entirely alone.

"You need me!" Sloane screamed, trying to leverage her family's power. "My father commands the western ports! If you touch me, he will bring a war to your doorstep that will wipe the Fairbourne name from this city! You have no money! You have no power without us!"

"Do you believe I care about the ports?" Alden asked, his voice a low rumble.

"You have to care!" Sloane cried. "It's business!"

"This is no longer business," Alden stated.

Callista, still holding firmly to Alden's arm, looked down at Sloane. The housemaid’s expressive eyes were hard with a fierce, protective anger.

"You are a monster," Callista said softly, her American accent cutting through the tense silence. "He doesn't need you. He never needed you."

Sloane sneered at the housemaid, her face twisting with venom. "Shut your mouth, you worthless servant. You think because you tripped me, you're something special? He's going to use you and throw you away. You're nothing but a distraction."