Chapter 5
The luminous, airy warmth of the dining room offered no solace to the woman watching the intimate exchange. Celia sobbed uncontrollably, her face buried in her manicured hands, her diamond engagement ring catching the bright light in a mocking display of failed ambition.
Dorian slowly turned his attention back to his fiancée. He stood over her, an imposing monolith of masculine power. He waited, his patience a weapon as sharp and precise as a scalpel.
"Are you prepared to remove the ring from your finger, or must I cut it from your hand?" Dorian asked, his deep voice carrying a measured, lethal calm.
Celia flinched violently at the threat. She dropped her hands, her fair skin streaked with ruined makeup, her eyes wide with primal terror.
"You can't do this!" Celia choked out, the venom finally breaking through her tears as self-preservation took over. "My father is Arthur Ward! He commands the western ports! He will burn your empire to the ground if you humiliate me like this!"
"Is your father a man who fights battles for foolish, cruel daughters?" Dorian asked quietly.
"He will kill you!" Celia pleaded, reaching out to grasp the leg of his tailored trousers. "I am going to be your wife, Dorian! We signed the contracts! You cannot back out now without causing a massive war!"
Dorian looked down at the trembling woman clinging to his leg. He felt absolutely nothing for her. The affection he had feigned for the sake of the syndicate merger evaporated instantly, leaving behind a cold, calculating void that craved only survival and absolute retribution.
"Do you expect me to harbor a thief under my roof to appease a shipping magnate?" Dorian asked.
He reached down with his artistic, tattooed hands and forcefully peeled her fingers off his suit. He stepped back, severing all physical contact with her forever.
"Is there any reason I shouldn't have my men escort you to the basement holding cells immediately?" Dorian inquired, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt with immaculate precision.
"Dorian, please, I have nowhere to go tonight!" Celia wept, crawling forward on her knees.
"Are the consequences of your cruelty my concern?" Dorian asked.
He reached into his tailored jacket and retrieved a sleek, encrypted smartphone. He dialed a single digit and pressed the phone to his ear. The small neck tattoo shifted seamlessly with the movement.
"Are my security details stationed at the outer doors?" Dorian asked into the receiver. "Will you come to the dining room and escort Miss Ward to her quarters to pack her belongings?"
He lowered the phone and looked at the broken socialite one last time.
"Will you be off my property within the hour?" Dorian asked softly, as the heavy doors of the dining room burst open.
Two massive security guards in dark suits entered the room. They marched forward without a word, hauling Celia roughly to her feet. She shrieked, thrashing wildly against their iron grip, but they were unyielding.
"You will regret this, Dorian!" she screamed as they dragged her backward toward the doors. "You will all burn for this!"
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"Will you convey my deepest regards to your father when I send him the pieces of his syndicate?" Dorian asked quietly.
He watched in silence as the heavy oak doors slammed shut behind her, severing the alliance and guaranteeing a bloody mafia war. The room was finally quiet again.
