Chapter 5
The ringing silence in the ballroom was absolute. The bright, cinematic lighting illuminated the catastrophic ruin of the engagement party, offering no shadows for Corinne Vale to hide her guilt. The wealthy guests pressed themselves flat against the walls, their fair skin starkly pale, terrified to even breathe as they witnessed the physical dismantling of the future matriarch.
Alistair smoothly pulled the wheelchair backward, placing himself entirely between Corinne and Sadie. He formed an impenetrable wall of dark wool and tailored perfection, completely shielding his weeping daughter from his fiancée’s line of sight.
"Daphne," Alistair ordered. His deep, raspy voice was barely a whisper, yet it echoed with absolute, chilling authority.
"Yes, Mr. Montelli," the caregiver responded instantly, pushing through her own pain to rush to Sadie’s side.
"Take my daughter to my private suite. Have the medical staff attend to her immediately. Do not let anyone else inside," Alistair commanded softly, not taking his eyes off the woman in the banquet chair.
"I've got her, sir," Daphne promised, her American accent shaking as she carefully wheeled the shivering child out of the grand ballroom, flanked by two additional bodyguards.
Once his daughter was secured, Alistair’s expression became terrifyingly calm. It wasn't the calmness of forgiveness; it was the absolute, frozen stillness of an executioner calculating the exact weight of a crime. He took a slow, deliberate step toward Corinne. The loose strand of hair falling over his forehead stood in stark contrast to the murderous intent burning behind his eyes.
Corinne pushed herself up against the backrest of the chair, her chest heaving. The sheer, overwhelming masculinity of the man completely suffocated her.
"Alistair, darling, you have to listen to me," Corinne pleaded, her voice cracking as tears of genuine terror finally spilled over her rosy cheeks. "It was an accident! I tripped, and the water spilled! Daphne overreacted! You know how protective she is!"
Alistair stopped just inches from her. He leaned down, placing his hands on the armrests of her chair, trapping her completely.
"I am not interested... in the water," Alistair whispered.
The controlled pauses between his words carried a measured, cold, and absolute danger. He stared directly into her panicked eyes, stripping away every layer of her aristocratic defense.
"You said..." Alistair continued, his voice dropping into a register of pure, concentrated ice, "'like her mother did.'"
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Corinne’s face became a mask of pure, paralyzing fright. The color drained entirely from her lips.
"Tell me," Alistair demanded, the quiet lethality in his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "How you know."
