Chapter 5
Declan slowly turned his full, terrifying attention back to Vivian. The air between them dropped to freezing.
"Explain yourself, Vivian," Declan said, his voice a lethal, vibrating rumble. "Before I run out of patience."
Vivian backed away until her spine hit the edge of a heavy gilded mirror. The bright, luminous light of the room offered her no shadows to hide within, reflecting her panicked state infinitely across the salon. She looked wildly around the cavernous space, desperately seeking an ally, but the hardened guards refused to meet her eyes.
"It was a practical arrangement, Declan!" Vivian pleaded, her hands shaking so violently the emerald earrings rattled. "She is a servant! She was acting entirely above her station! She spends too much time with your daughter! I was securing a strong future for us by removing a distraction! The commission would never accept a maid's bastard!"
"Did you think I would crown a woman whose hands are stained with the attempted murder of my unborn child?" Declan inquired, his voice remaining perfectly steady.
He looked down at Vivian, exposing the ruthless, pathetic rot underneath the silk and jewels.
"I was doing it for you!" Vivian cried out, her voice pitching an octave higher as her panic fully set in. "You demand perfection in this house! The girl needs a mother, not a maid! I was solving the problem!"
"Do you believe you have the right to decide who lives and dies under my roof?" Declan asked, stepping slowly toward her. "Or do you simply lack the capacity to understand loyalty unless it is bought with blood money?"
The air in the salon crackled with a lethal tension. Vivian, cornered against the mirrored glass, realized that her aristocratic entitlement held absolutely no weight against the cold, calculating fury of the mafia boss. Her attempt to discipline the household had backfired into a catastrophic exposure of her true nature.
"You need me!" Vivian shrieked, grasping at the last shreds of her political power and family influence. "My family controls the western distribution lines! We built this alliance together! If you break this engagement, my father will start a war that will burn this city to the ground!"
"Do you think the threat of a war frightens me more than a monster sleeping in my bed?" Declan inquired, tilting his head slightly, his cold, observant eyes narrowing into dark, lethal slits.
He didn't wait for her to process the absolute lack of mercy in his gaze. He reached into the inner pocket of his tailored dark three-piece suit, his refined tattoos catching the golden light, and withdrew a heavy, encrypted mobile phone.
"Are you waiting in the grand foyer, Marcus?" Declan asked into the receiver. He paused, listening to his unseen underboss on the other end of the line. "Will you bring two men into the salon immediately?"
Vivian gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in sheer, unadulterated terror. She knew exactly what Marcus did for the West family. He was the man who made Declan’s problems disappear without a trace.
"No! Declan, please!" Vivian shrieked, kicking off her expensive heels and scrambling backward across the marble floor, her ivory gown dragging behind her. "You can't do this! I am a Kerr! My family will kill you! My father will slaughter your entire syndicate for this!"
The heavy mahogany double doors of the salon swung open violently. Marcus, a towering man with a heavily scarred face and a dark trench coat, stepped into the room, flanked by two equally intimidating enforcers. They moved with absolute, silent precision, ignoring the lavish surroundings and focusing entirely on their boss.
"Will you escort my former fiancée to the holding cells in the sub-basement?" Declan asked, not taking his eyes off the weeping woman backed against the wall.
"No! No, please!" Vivian shrieked, kicking and thrashing wildly as the two enforcers reached out and grabbed her by the arms. They hauled her to her feet with effortless strength, the delicate fabric of her elegant evening gown tearing audibly at the seams. "I loved you, Declan! You owe me! I saved you from a pathetic life with the help!"
"Will you ensure she is gagged if she continues to scream, Marcus?" Declan inquired, casually adjusting the open collar of his dark suit.
May you like
Marcus nodded grimly. "Yes, boss. Let's go, princess."
The enforcers dragged Vivian backward toward the doors. Her threats devolved into hysterical, panicked sobs that echoed down the grand hallway until the heavy doors clicked shut behind them, sealing the salon in a profound, suffocating silence once more. The engagement was violently, irreparably over.
