Chapter 4
"Yes, sir," Anwen whispered. Her voice was barely audible, but she moved instantly, her flat black shoes carrying her swiftly across the bright, illuminated terrace. She kept her head down, avoiding the staring eyes of the wealthy guests in their formal evening attire, desperate to escape the suffocating tension of the pool deck.
Duncan watched her retreat until the heavy glass doors of the mansion closed safely behind her. He slowly turned his attention back to Felice, who was now clutching her diamond necklace as if it could protect her.
"Duncan, you are making a scene over nothing," Felice attempted, forcing a shaky, brittle laugh. "The guests are staring. Let's go back to the bar. We can discuss the staffing issues tomorrow."
"There is no tomorrow for you in this house," Duncan said softly.
Felice’s rosy face went completely white. "What are you talking about? We are getting married in three weeks!"
"The engagement is broken," Duncan stated. He spoke with his trademark slow, measured cadence, keeping his volume incredibly low. Every sentence sounded cold and dangerous. "You will pack your bags. You will leave this estate tonight. If you are still here when the sun comes up, I will have my men throw you off the property."
"You can't do this!" Felice shrieked, her aristocratic facade entirely shattered. "My father is a capo! You need my family's connections in the city! You are throwing away an alliance over a filthy housemaid!"
"I am throwing away a liability," Duncan corrected smoothly. He reached up with a tattooed hand and slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket. "You have shown me that you are cruel, impulsive, and entirely untrustworthy. A woman who starves a child for sport is not a woman who can stand beside me as a queen."
"She slept with you!" Felice screamed, her voice echoing across the silent pool. The revelation hit the guests like a physical shockwave. "I know she did! Three years ago, before we were together! I saw the way she looked at you! I saw the boy in the staff quarters! He has your eyes, Duncan! He has your eyes!"
Duncan’s expression remained an unreadable mask of stone, but internally, a massive, tectonic shift was occurring. He remembered the brief, intense connection he had shared with Anwen three years ago—a fleeting moment of vulnerability before the brutal realities of his mafia empire had forced him to build a wall around his heart. He had convinced himself it was a mistake, a risk he couldn't afford to take. He never knew she had gotten pregnant.
"If what you say is true," Duncan murmured, stepping so close to Felice that she had to tilt her head back to look at him, "then you knew I had an heir. And you tried to starve him."
"He is a bastard!" Felice spat, tears of pure rage spilling over her fair cheeks. "He is a threat to our future children! He had to be dealt with!"
"Get out of my sight," Duncan whispered. "Before I forget that I don't hit women."
Felice stared into his cold, sharp eyes and finally understood the absolute, lethal reality of her situation. She turned on her expensive heels and fled toward the mansion, weeping in humiliated fury.
Duncan did not watch her go. He turned his gaze to the deep end of the pool, where the crisp banknotes were still floating on the vibrant blue water. He gestured to two of his armed bodyguards standing in the shadows.
May you like
"Fish the money out," Duncan ordered, his voice low and precise. "Dry it off. Bring it to my study."
Without another word, the Mafia boss turned and walked away from the ruined engagement party, his polished shoes carrying him toward the truth he had been denied.
