Annelie lifted a silver serving dome only to find a sponge soaked in gravy instead of dinner

A collective gasp tore through the women at the neighboring tables. Senator Albright’s wife stood up so quickly her crystal wine glass tipped, drenching her lavender gown in crimson merlot.

"Roderic! Stop this madness!" Senator Albright shouted, stepping forward with his palms out. "You are in the grand ballroom of the St. Regis! There are cameras outside! The press is waiting on the terrace!"

Roderic did not loosen his grip on Gordon’s neck. He turned his head slowly, his cold gray eyes locking onto the politician. "Sit down, Senator. Before I start asking what you paid for your subscription."

The Senator’s mouth clamped shut. His rosy complexion turned the color of ash. He took two steps backward and sank silently back into his chair.

Silas returned instantly, carrying a heavy, polished silver carving knife with a fourteen-inch serrated blade. He presented it to Roderic grip-first.

"Gordon," Roderic whispered, pressing Gordon’s cheek harder against the table. "Who built the server?"

"I don't know!" Gordon wailed, spit and tears pooling on the linen beneath his lips. "It was encrypted through a Swiss routing network! Delphine was the administrator! She held the broadcast keys!"

Roderic turned his head toward Delphine.

The fiancée was shivering in her emerald dress, clutching her knees, her eyes wide with animal panic.

"Is that true, Delphine?" Roderic asked.

"Roderic, please!" Delphine sobbed, her aristocratic composure completely shattered. "I didn't want to do it! They approached me at the country club three weeks ago! They had photographs of my brother’s debt in Atlantic City! They said if I didn't help them humiliate you, they would break both of his legs!"

"Who approached you?" Roderic asked, his voice dead and level.

"A man named Miller!" Delphine cried out. "He said he represented the Chicago families! He said the Five Families wanted you out of the logistics corridor! They wanted you to look weak, Roderic! They wanted the street bosses to see that you were distracted by a child!"

Roderic looked down at Annelie.

The little girl was standing bravely behind his leg, her small hand clutching the seam of his dark trousers. Her eyes were fixed on the silver knife in his hand.

"Daddy," Annelie whispered, her voice tiny and fragile. "Are you going to hurt Auntie Delphine?"

Roderic paused.

He looked at the razor-sharp edge of the blade, then looked at his daughter’s innocent, tear-stained face. Slowly, deliberately, he drove the point of the knife straight down through the center of Gordon’s smartphone, pinning the shattered glass into the mahogany table with a violent, splintering crack.

Gordon screamed, expecting steel in his hand, but Roderic released his collar. Gordon collapsed onto the floor, clutching his chest, gasping for air like a landed fish.

Roderic bent down on one knee, bringing his eyes level with Annelie’s. With his thumb, he gently brushed away the dried tear tracks on her soft, rosy cheek.

"No, little bird," Roderic said, his voice softer than anyone in the room had ever heard it. "Daddy isn't going to hurt her in front of you."

He stood up, looking at Silas.

"Silas," Roderic commanded.

"Sir."

"Take Annelie into the private suite behind the kitchen. Have the executive chef prepare a warm bowl of chicken broth and roasted potatoes. Sit with her while she eats. If anyone approaches that door who isn't me, kill them."

"Understood, Mr. Haversham." Silas knelt down, offering his massive, tattooed hand to the girl. "Come on, princess. Let’s get you some real dinner."

Annelie looked at Roderic. "You promise you'll come get me, Daddy?"

"I promise, sweetheart," Roderic murmured.

Annelie took Silas’s hand, her small flats pattering against the polished parquet as the bodyguard escorted her through the brass service doors.