Chapter 6
Within ninety seconds, the sprawling conservatory was completely empty, save for Lucan, Celine, Cora, Miles, the shivering puppy, and the heavy security detail standing silently by the silk drapes. The bright, airy luminosity of the room now illuminated only the raw, ugly truth of the betrayal.
Celine stood trembling by the velvet seating, her hands clutched tightly at her sides. She realized with a sinking horror that the political immunity she had relied upon was entirely useless inside the walls of the Whitmore estate.
Lucan looked down at Cora. The gentle maid was still clutching the puppy, her delicate features pale, yet she had stood her ground. She was keeping Miles close, shielding the little boy from the intense confrontation.
"Cora," Lucan said, his tone softening only marginally as he addressed her. "Take Miles and the dog upstairs to my private quarters. Lock the doors. Allow no one inside but my personal guard."
"Yes, Mr. Whitmore," Cora whispered, her voice shaking with adrenaline. She gently placed her free hand on the six-year-old boy’s shoulder, offering him a small, watery smile. "Come along, Miles. Let's go get Pip dried off."
Miles looked up at his father, then at Celine, before clinging tightly to the fabric of Lucan's jacket draped over Cora. As the maid and the child hurried out of the room, their footsteps echoing softly against the marble, Lucan turned his full, terrifying attention back to the woman in the emerald gown.
"Now," Lucan said, taking a slow, predatory step toward her. "You are going to explain to me why you thought you could execute an animal in my home."
"I told you!" Celine shrieked, backing away until she bumped into a cream marble column. "It was a distraction! I am trying to build an empire with you, Lucan! You spend half your day indulging that boy's whims! You are losing your edge! The other families are laughing at you! I took control because you were too weak to do it yourself!"
"You attempted to drown a defenseless animal because you felt I was neglecting my syndicate duties?" Lucan asked, the sheer absurdity of her lies fueling the dark, violent rage coiling in his chest.
"I am your fiancée!" Celine cried, her diamond earrings swinging wildly. "I am the daughter of the Voss syndicate! You cannot treat me like a common criminal!"
"Do you believe the title of fiancée grants you immunity from the consequences of psychopathy?" Lucan countered, stepping closer, his imposing frame blocking her escape.
He didn't wait for her to answer. He turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the four heavily armed guards stationed near the glass doors.
"Are you men going to secure this traitor, or must I drag her to the cells myself?" Lucan asked, his command absolute.
Two massive enforcers stepped forward instantly, moving with terrifying, synchronized efficiency. They grabbed Celine roughly by the arms, entirely ignoring the expensive fabric of her luxurious emerald gown.
"Get your hands off me!" Celine screamed as they dragged her backward toward the corridor. "My family will not stand for this! You cannot survive without my father's alliance!"
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"Take her to the holding cells in the sub-basement," Lucan commanded, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "Ensure the temperature is dropped, and that she is stripped of all jewelry and communication devices."
"You are a dead man, Lucan!" Celine wailed as they hauled her through the heavy doors. "You hear me? You are a dead man!"
