Chapter 10
Caleb’s gaze moved away from his son, cutting across the gold-rimmed porcelain and crystal stemware, locking directly onto Sabine. The movement was followed by a slight, predatory turn of his head, elevating his posture to its maximum, terrifying height.
His jaw firmed almost imperceptibly, the muscles flexing visibly beneath his extremely short, neatly trimmed stubble. His mouth became completely still, settling into a hard, unforgiving line. The brief flash of paternal warmth vanished entirely from his expression, replaced by the dark, empty void of an executioner.
He held Sabine’s eyes with a cold, unwavering stare.
Silence.
The visual standoff suspended the dining hall in a state of impending doom. Every single guest in the massive, opulent room remained perfectly attentive, facing him, paralyzed by the public unmasking of the future bride. The silence was deafening, ringing in the ears of everyone present. No one dared to breathe, waiting for the apex predator to strike.
Sabine felt her knees go weak. The sculpted plum satin of her evening gown seemed to offer no armor against his penetrating stare. The fair, rosy flush on her skin had turned to a sickly, translucent white. She realized that arguing against the visible trauma of the child and the clear, undeniable confession of the maid was a losing battle.
"Caleb, darling, please," Sabine whispered, her voice a fragile, pathetic breath. "I was only trying to prepare him for the harsh realities of our world. He is too soft. He needs to learn discipline."
"Does discipline require the annihilation of a child's soul, Sabine?" Caleb asked smoothly, his voice dropping into a register of pure, concentrated ice.
"My father will not stand for this insult," Sabine hissed, panic mutating into cornered, vicious entitlement as she attempted to leverage her family's political weight. "If you humiliate me, he will declare war. He will shut down your supply lines."
"Will he declare war?" Caleb asked, tilting his head with dangerous curiosity. "Or will he thank me for returning his defective, cruel daughter before she caused a war he could not possibly win?"
Sabine’s mouth dropped open. The color drained entirely from her lips. She realized she had absolutely no power left in the room. The alliance was dead, severed by her own psychopathic ambition.
"Get your hands off me!" Sabine screamed as two massive men in tailored dark suits stepped forward from the shadows and grabbed her by the arms. She thrashed wildly, her gown twisting awkwardly around her legs. "You are choosing a servant and a stray over a queen! You are a fool, Caleb!"
"Are empires built by men who allow their children to be tortured in their own homes?" Caleb inquired, entirely unaffected by her venom.
He didn't wait for a response. He slowly turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the silent, paralyzed guests.
May you like
"Is this engagement dinner concluded?" Caleb asked the room at large.
The question was a lethal command disguised as an inquiry. The guests immediately understood. Chairs scraped softly against the polished marble floors as the most powerful men and women in the American mafia stood up in unison. They simply turned and began a swift, silent exodus from the luminous dining hall, eager to escape the blast radius of the Boss's impending wrath. The war had just begun, but the true family at the head of the table had finally been secured.
