Chapter 7
The camera angle shifted to a tight close-up of Keira. The cinematic, slightly warm white balance of the lighting caught the fierce, unyielding resolve that had finally replaced the terror in the housemaid's eyes. She had stood in the shadows of this mansion, watching Maribel manipulate and scheme, but she would not allow the woman to gaslight a child who had just risked everything to save her father's life.
Keira maintained direct, unwavering eye contact with Silas. Her slender figure straightened slightly beneath the sophisticated black maid dress. She ignored the venomous glare radiating from Maribel across the table.
Her voice stayed quiet and remarkably steady despite her tightly clasped fingers, which were turning white against her apron.
“Annie reads lips.”
The statement was an absolute, devastating detonation. It shattered Maribel’s primary line of defense into a million irreparable pieces. The American accent carried the words clearly across the dead silent room, bouncing off the ivory-paneled walls and gilded moldings.
The implication crashed over the dining hall. Annie did not need to hear the whispered conspiracy. She had watched the words form on Maribel's lips from across the room. She had seen the plot unfold in perfect, silent clarity.
"She is lying!" Maribel shrieked, entirely abandoning her polished social poise. Her voice pitched up into a hysterical, defensive frequency. She pointed a shaking, diamond-clad finger at the housemaid. "They are both lying! The maid put her up to this! They conspired to ruin this dinner to make me look like a monster in front of your friends! They want me out of this house!"
"Do you believe my daughter is a puppet, manipulated by a woman whose only crime is showing her the maternal protection you inherently lack?" Silas asked softly, his gaze remaining unyielding.
"Silas, you cannot take the word of a servant and a disabled child over your future wife!" Maribel cried, tears of panic and frustration finally spilling over her fair cheeks, ruining her pristine makeup. "I am a Shaw! My family brings the eastern ports to this alliance! You need me!"
May you like
"Are a few shipping lanes worth the price of my own life, Maribel?" Silas asked smoothly.
He didn't wait for her pathetic, scrambling answer. He stood perfectly still, his tailored dark suit an anchor of masculine authority in the chaotic aftermath of the revelation. The truth was out in the open, illuminated by the warm golden light of the chandeliers, and there was absolutely no place for the traitor to run.
