Chapter 4
The golden light from the cascading crystal chandeliers suddenly felt harsh and exposing, bearing down on Nadine as she stood pinned by the mafia boss’s stare. The silence expanding outward from the head table was absolute, a heavy vacuum that amplified the sound of her own frantic heartbeat. She felt Rex press his warm, muddy body against the side of her black A-line skirt, offering a silent, steadying comfort.
Nadine held Callan’s gaze. She forced herself not to look away from his cold, observant eyes, which were searching her softly heart-shaped face for the truth. Her delicate cheekbones were pale, but her posture remained elegant and resolute.
"Nadine," Callan said.
His deep, low voice dropped a full octave. He allowed a measured, agonizing pause to linger after her name. The sound was not a shout, but the cold inquiry carried a gravity that commanded absolute obedience. Every single guest stopped eating. Conversations died in their throats. Dozens of powerful men and women turned their heads toward the head of the table in total, suffocating silence.
"Is that my wife’s?" Callan asked.
The question hung in the air, heavy and lethal. Nadine felt the eyes of the entire criminal underworld burning into her skin. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could force the words past the lump of terror in her throat, Marietta intervened.
Marietta smoothly adjusted her posture, the sculpted satin of her evening gown rustling against the velvet upholstery. She met Callan’s stunned, intense gaze with a faint, reassuring smile, projecting the image of a devoted, protective lover attempting to expose a malicious, thieving servant.
"Nadine stole it, darling," Marietta stated, her delivery smooth, soothing, and laced with a dismissive amusement.
She offered the lie with effortless, chilling perfection. But beneath the surface, panic was clawing at her throat. Her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the ornate diamond bracelet on her wrist, the metal biting painfully into her skin. Her eyes frantically searched Callan’s angular face for any sign of agreement, any indication that he would accept her version of reality and dismiss the beautiful housemaid's discovery.
"I have been missing a few pieces of jewelry myself lately," Marietta continued, her voice rising just enough for the nearest capos to hear. "She must have found Lara's ring left behind in a drawer and decided to pawn it. When she realized she was caught, she covered it in mud to create a scene. She is unstable, Callan."
Nadine’s inner brows lifted helplessly, an expression of profound, restrained anger. She looked at the woman who had seamlessly taken her mistress's place.
"Are you accusing my staff of theft in front of my guests, Marietta?" Callan asked, his voice remaining quiet, yet vibrating with a lethal, suppressed fury.
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"I am merely pointing out the obvious, my love," Marietta said softly, reaching out to place her hand over his.
Callan did not look at her hand. He kept his eyes locked on Nadine, waiting for her answer. The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
