Chapter 8
Sloane stared up at the towering Mafia boss, the reality of her total defeat finally setting in. Her luxurious engagement gown was stained with grass and dirt, the silk flowers from the broken arch tangled in her hair. She dropped her hand from her chest, exposing the diamond ring resting against her skin.
"What are you going to do, Alden?" Sloane asked, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Kill me in front of fifty witnesses? Start a war right here in your pretty garden?"
Alden looked down at her. He didn't draw a weapon. He didn't raise his voice. He simply assessed her with the cold, calculating precision of a man who held the power of life and death in his hands.
"Do you believe a war has not already begun?" Alden asked quietly.
He turned his head slowly, scanning the faces of the guests gathered around the padded benches and the champagne bar. The air was thick with tension, every eye locked on the head of the Fairbourne family.
"Marcus," Alden called out, his deep voice carrying effortlessly across the lawn.
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a dark suit stepped out from the crowd of guests. He was one of Alden’s top lieutenants. "Yes, Boss."
"Will you escort our guests to the front gates?" Alden asked. "It appears the engagement party has concluded."
The guests didn't need to be told twice. A collective, hurried shuffle began as fifty adults quickly abandoned their half-empty champagne glasses and moved toward the exits, eager to distance themselves from the impending violence.
"You can't just send them away!" Sloane panicked, scrambling backward on the grass. "They're my witnesses! My father will know what you did!"
"Are you under the impression that I am trying to hide my actions from your father?" Alden inquired, looking back down at her.
He reached into his tailored dark suit jacket and retrieved a sleek, black smartphone. He dialed a number, holding the phone to his ear while keeping his cold eyes fixed on his former fiancée.
"Connect me to Victor Mercer," Alden said into the phone.
Sloane gasped. She watched in horror as Alden bypassed her entirely and called her father directly.
"Victor," Alden spoke, his tone professional and utterly devoid of emotion. "Are you aware that your daughter murdered my wife to facilitate our merger?"
A pause. Even from where Callista stood, she could hear the muffled, frantic shouting coming from the phone speaker.
"I am not asking for your explanation," Alden interrupted the shouting. "I am informing you that the alliance is dissolved. Your daughter is currently sitting on my lawn. You have exactly one hour to send a car to collect her. If she is still on my property when the clock strikes four, I will send her back to you in pieces. Do we have an understanding?"
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Alden lowered the phone, ending the call without waiting for a response. He looked down at Sloane, whose face was completely pale.
"Does your father's silence comfort you?" Alden asked.
