Chapter 4
The dining room felt cavernous and echoing without the guests. The bright, airy light illuminated the pristine white damask tables, now littered with abandoned gold-rimmed porcelain plates and half-empty crystal glasses of expensive wine.
Cordelia marched around the edge of the head table, her satin gown rustling violently. She was furious, her American accent sharp and piercing as she glared at the housemaid.
"Look what you have done!" Cordelia yelled, directing her wrath at Sage. "You manipulated him! You played the weeping victim to turn him against me! You are nothing but a common maid!"
Sage instinctively took a step back, her slender figure tensing. She kept her eyes lowered, clutching the ruined wedding veil to her chest. She had no power here, no voice against the daughter of a rival mafia boss.
Tristan shifted his stance, his polished leather shoes moving silently across the rug. He stepped directly into Cordelia’s path, forcing her to stop or collide with his powerful shoulders.
"Do you think your shouting alters the reality of what you did?" Tristan asked.
"Tristan, you cannot take her side!" Cordelia screamed, tears of pure rage filling her eyes. "My family brings you the eastern shipping routes! My father commands a thousand men! You need me!"
"Do I look like a man who negotiates out of need?" Tristan asked, his angular face turning to stone.
"You are throwing away an empire for a servant!" Cordelia sobbed, grabbing the lapel of his tailored dark three-piece suit. "I am your fiancée! I love you! I did it for us!"
Tristan looked down at her hands gripping his suit. He slowly reached up with his tattooed fingers, gripping her wrists with a terrifying, unyielding strength. He removed her hands from his clothing, pushing her gently but firmly away from him.
"Did you ever love me, or did you only love the power my name provides?" Tristan asked.
"That isn't true!" Cordelia cried.
"Will you remove the ring?" Tristan asked, his low voice carrying an absolute, lethal finality.
Cordelia gasped, her rosy skin turning ashen. She clutched her left hand to her chest, protecting the massive diamond engagement ring. "No. No, Tristan, please. We can fix this. I will fix the veil. I will have a seamstress repair it tonight!"
"Can a seamstress stitch together a soul?" Tristan asked. "Will you remove the ring, or must I have my men remove it for you?"
The threat hung in the luminous, warm air. Cordelia stared into his cold, perceptive eyes and realized there was no bluff. Tristan Lockwood did not make idle threats. Trembling violently, she slid the heavy diamond ring off her finger and placed it on the white damask tablecloth.
"My father will declare war on you for this," Cordelia spat, a venomous, bitter tone replacing her tears. "He will burn this mansion to the ground."
"Is he foolish enough to try?" Tristan asked.
He pulled a silver cell phone from his pocket and pressed a single button. "Will you send an escort to the dining room for Miss Ames?" he asked into the device. "Will you ensure she is removed from the property immediately?"
He put the phone away and turned his back on Cordelia, dismissing her entirely. Two massive security guards in dark suits entered the room seconds later, taking Cordelia by the arms. She didn't fight them. She threw one last, hateful glare at Sage before being marched out of the room, her elegant gown dragging behind her.
May you like
Tristan turned back to Sage. The housemaid was shaking, her expressive brows drawn together in overwhelming distress.
"Are you afraid of me, Sage?" Tristan asked quietly.
