Chapter 3
The silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with the metallic tang of adrenaline and unspoken treason. The soft blue light from the aquarium viewing walls seemed to freeze the conspirators in time. Cesare gently ushered Avice behind his legs, shielding her small body from the growing hostility in the lounge.
"It’s an absurd accusation," Ethan barked, stepping forward, his polished leather shoes clicking sharply on the floor. "My sister is carrying the next Lombardi heir. This brat is just jealous of the attention, and you are indulging her delusions!"
"We will see," Cesare said softly.
Without another word, Cesare turned and walked deliberately toward the private cloakroom.
"Father, stop!" Julian protested, reaching out to grab Cesare’s arm. "You cannot violate her privacy based on the rambling of a toddler! It is incredibly insulting to the Cole family!"
Cesare did not break his stride. He simply turned his head, his cold eyes paralyzing his son. "If she is insulted. I will apologize. If she is lying. I will end her."
Cesare grabbed the brass handle of the cloakroom door and pushed it wide open. He stepped inside, his sharp eyes scanning the heavy coats, the evening wraps, and the discarded garment bags. The bright overhead light illuminated the small space perfectly. He reached out and pushed aside a heavy velvet cloak.
There, hanging from a velvet hanger beneath a spare evening wrap, was a floral padded pregnancy belly.
It was meticulously crafted, complete with heavy fastening straps, perfectly matching the shape and dimensions of the bulge currently residing beneath Vanessa’s gown. It was undeniable, physical proof of the greatest deception ever attempted against the Lombardi bloodline.
Cesare stared at the prosthetic. His breathing slowed. Every muscle in his broad, masculine body coiled with a dark, lethal tension. The artistic tattoos on his neck shifted as his jaw locked into place.
Behind him, in the lounge, sheer panic erupted.
"Ethan, do something!" Vanessa hissed, her voice cracking with terror.
Vanessa lunged forward, her elegant gown sweeping across the carpet as she quickly reached toward Avice, attempting to grab the child to use as leverage against the Mafia boss.
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Before her manicured fingers could even brush Avice’s cardigan, a massive shadow fell over her. Cesare had re-emerged from the cloakroom with terrifying, explosive speed. He stepped between Vanessa and his granddaughter, his face an unreadable mask of absolute, freezing rage.
No dialogue was spoken. The look in Cesare’s eyes was a death sentence, freezing Vanessa’s hand in mid-air as she realized she had nowhere left to run.
