“Bring my granddaughter back.”

"A transaction?" Victor repeated the word slowly, tasting the absolute venom of it. "You facilitated a transaction involving human flesh behind my back, under the guise of my syndicate’s charitable foundation?"

Juliette paced a few steps across the carved walnut floors, her velvet gown sweeping the ground. She forced a harsh, desperate laugh. "Oh, please, Victor! Do not stand there and play the moral crusader! We are the mafia! We run illicit gambling rings, we control the ports, we extort politicians! Since when do you care about one impoverished child?"

"Since that child was sold by a woman wearing my ring, using my resources, and threatening my daughter with the concept that people can be bought and sold like cattle," Victor retorted, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

He stepped closer to the banquet table, his tailored dark suit cutting a formidable silhouette against the bright, clean whites of the table linens. He picked up his crystal glass, staring at the amber liquid inside for a moment before setting it down with a sharp, echoing clack.

"Mrs. Bennett," Victor said, looking down at the grandmother. "Tell me exactly what happened at the hospital."

Ruth took a shaky breath, her American accent thick with unshed tears. "I needed heart surgery, Mr. Harrington. I had no one to watch Poppy. Miss Voss visited the hospital representing your charity foundation. She wore those beautiful diamonds, smiled so sweetly, and promised me that Poppy would stay at a luxury retreat for children while I recovered. She said it was fully funded."

"And when you were discharged?" Victor prompted, his eyes never leaving Juliette’s face.

"I called the number she gave me. It was disconnected," Ruth wept, burying her face in her worn hands. "I came to the estate gates for a week. The guards turned me away. Finally, I found Violet by the service entrance. Violet remembered seeing Poppy being put into a black car with strangers. Violet is the only one who listened to me."

Victor turned his head, processing the immense risk the young maid had taken to bring this woman directly into the dining hall during a major event. Violet had bypassed the guards, bypassed the chain of command, and essentially thrown herself onto a grenade to expose a monster.

"You accepted money from these people," Victor stated, locking his gaze onto his fiancée. "How much?"

"Two hundred and fifty thousand," Juliette confessed, lifting her chin defiantly. "They were desperate. The wife couldn't conceive. They didn't want to wait for the red tape of legal adoption. I provided a service that benefited everyone. Ruth got her surgery, the couple got a child, and I added a quarter of a million to our offshore accounts!"

"You kidnapped a six-year-old girl and sold her to strangers," Victor corrected, his voice entirely devoid of emotion.

"It was an elegant solution!" Juliette screamed, her polish entirely gone, replaced by a feral, aristocratic arrogance. "You should be praising my initiative! I am ensuring this family’s wealth! I am showing you that I have the stomach to lead beside you!"