Chapter 7
The words struck Alexander with the force of a detonating bomb.
His face went completely, totally stunned. The color drained entirely from his fair, rosy cheeks. The breath was knocked from his lungs as the horrifying implication of his three-year-old daughter's whisper settled into his brilliant, tactical mind.
Two years ago, his beloved wife had died in a tragic, unexplained fall down the grand staircase of the estate while he was away on business in Europe. The authorities had ruled it a terrible accident. The security cameras had conveniently malfunctioned that night.
He slowly turned his head back to look at Sophia. "What did you say, little bird?"
"I saw her," Sophia sobbed, burying her face back into his neck, terrified of the woman on the floor. "Grandma pushed Mommy down the big stairs. She told me if I ever told you, she would push me too."
The stunned disbelief on Alexander’s face shifted, morphing instantly into an expression of absolute, demonic fury. The deeply masculine, terrifying aura of the veteran billionaire darkened into something infinitely more dangerous.
He slowly turned his face back toward Victoria.
"Alexander, no!" Victoria screamed, scrambling backward on her hands and knees through the ruined cake and shattered glass. "She’s lying! The child is a pathological liar! She made it up for attention! It was an accident! You know it was an accident!"
"A malfunction in the security system," Alexander whispered, his deep voice carrying a hollow, devastating emotional void. "A fall that broke her neck while you were the only other adult in the house. And you silenced my daughter with the threat of murder."
"She was ruining you!" Victoria shrieked, finally abandoning the lie as the sheer terror of his gaze broke her. She confessed her treason to the entire silent ballroom. "She was soft! She was turning you into a weak, pathetic civilian! I had to protect the Sterling empire! I had to protect you!"
"You murdered my wife," Alexander stated flatly.
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He didn't draw a weapon. He didn't order his guards to execute her. The punishment he had designed was far more permanent.
"Guards," Alexander commanded, his voice slicing through the heavy silence of the ballroom.
