Chapter 3
The continuous, muted clatter of silver cutlery against porcelain plates came to a sudden, jarring halt. The bright, airy lighting of the dining hall seemed to sharpen, acting as a high-definition spotlight on the silent tension escalating at the head of the family table.
Holden did not move his powerful shoulders. He simply stared at the scene unfolding before him, his heavily tattooed hands resting completely still by his sides. The generous spacing of the ink was clearly visible under the warm, golden chandelier light.
He noticed immediately the white-knuckled, punishing grip his fiancée held on the frail elderly man. He saw Walter's shoulders tight with fear, and the absolute, breathless terror radiating from the beautiful housemaid standing beside them.
Holden did not smile back at Lenora. He did not nod in agreement. The Mafia boss possessed a preternatural ability to read the subtle indicators of deception.
He moved.
He did not rush, nor did he display any outward sign of explosive anger. He simply stepped sideways with a fluid, terrifying masculine grace. His broad, powerful shoulders shifted beneath the tailored dark three-piece suit. In one deliberate, protective motion, Holden stepped directly between Lenora and the elderly caretaker.
The physical intervention was absolute. Lenora immediately released Walter’s arm, her manicured hand pulling back as if she had touched a burning stove. She settled her hand against the satin of her gown, her smile tightening significantly at the corners.
Holden slowly turned his head. The loose strands of slightly wavy hair falling over his forehead cast no shadows in the bright, luminous room, but the sheer gravity of his presence seemed to darken the space immediately surrounding him. He shifted his cold, terrifyingly perceptive gaze away from Lenora and looked directly at Daphne.
Daphne held his gaze, her heart plummeting into her stomach. She saw the deeply masculine, lethal power radiating from him, but beneath the cold exterior, she recognized an unyielding demand for the truth.
Holden spoke slowly and quietly, the acoustic weight of his voice vibrating through the polished marble floors.
“Daphne. Who is this man?”
The question dropped into the silent, luminous room like a heavy stone into still water. There was a controlled, terrifying pause placed perfectly after her name.
May you like
Every single guest at the massive, crowded table stopped eating and speaking. The melodic hum of polite conversations died completely. Men in expensive formal wear and women in satin gowns turned their heads in unison, their fair, rosy faces locking onto the head of the table. The silence was absolute, heavy with the terrifying realization that the apex predator of their world had just halted his own engagement dinner to interrogate a servant.
Daphne froze. She swallowed hard, the muscles in her throat contracting visibly beneath the crisp white collar of her maid dress. She was entirely exposed beneath the bright, golden glow of the cascading chandeliers, trapped between the man who owned the city and the woman who was about to marry him.
