Chapter 4
The question hung in the bright, golden air. It was not a question born of anger; it was a deadly demand for confirmation, dripping with an unimaginable, heavy weight.
The silence in the grand foyer became a physical, suffocating pressure. The ivory candles flickering in their ornate brass candelabras seemed to be the only things moving in the entire, luminous space. The clear, cinematic lighting left absolutely no shadows for the truth to hide within.
Lila swallowed hard, her pulse racing frantically. She met Mason’s dark, commanding gaze. Her chest heaved rapidly beneath the fitted black fabric of her creased dress. She knew the extreme danger of answering that question. She knew the power of Camille's family, and she knew the socialite's capacity for vindictive, fatal violence against her bedridden mother.
But looking into Mason’s eyes, feeling the absolute, terrifying demand for the truth radiating from his broad-shouldered frame, Lila found she had no choice. The presence of the mafia boss stripped away her ability to lie, and the sight of Piper bravely holding up her piggy bank shattered the last remnants of her fear.
Lila steadied a trembling breath, parting her lips before she could force the fragile words out into the open. She refused to look at the woman in the emerald gown. She kept her eyes locked on the man who could protect them all.
"Yes," Lila answered, her voice quiet but devastatingly clear.
The single word was a knife to the chest of the entire syndicate. A collective, quiet gasp rippled through the elite guests standing near the ballroom entrance. The music playing in the background seemed to fade into nothingness. The boss had fathered a child with a servant, a scandalous revelation that threatened the very foundation of his impending political marriage.
But Lila was not finished. The dam had broken, and the full extent of the betrayal spilled out.
"Yes," Lila repeated, her voice gaining a desperate, fierce conviction. "Camille already took the money."
The second sentence hit the room with the devastating force of a physical blow. The absolute, unvarnished truth spoken from the mouth of a broken maid was a catastrophic verdict.
Mason stopped breathing. His entire body went rigid beneath his tailored dark three-piece suit. He slowly processed the words. His fiancée had not only discovered his unborn child, but she had brokered a clandestine deal to sell his bloodline to strangers for profit.
He slowly turned his head. His naturally swept-back hair caught the light as he shifted his gaze. He looked from the trembling housemaid directly to the woman he was supposed to marry.
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The sheer, sociopathic malice of selling a man's child behind his back sent a fresh wave of horror through the room. To attempt to traffic the heir of the boss in his own home was an insult that demanded immediate, violent blood.
Mason held Camille’s gaze, his eyes narrowing into cold slits.
