Chapter 5
The heavy doors clicked shut, plunging the vast, luminous dining hall into a profound, ringing silence. The cascading crystal chandeliers continued to cast their warm golden light over the abandoned gold-rimmed porcelain and half-empty crystal wine glasses. The opulent space, designed for celebration, now felt like a gilded interrogation chamber.
Vivienne backed away from the head table, her heels clicking unsteadily against the polished floor. She wrapped her arms around her waist, a defensive posture that crushed the sculpted satin of her expensive gown. Her diamond earrings shook as she wept, her carefully constructed public smile entirely destroyed.
"Sebastian, you cannot believe this is real," Vivienne sobbed, her chest heaving. "My family arranged this marriage! We are supposed to unite our syndicates! Are you going to throw all of that away because of a misunderstanding and a lying maid?"
Sebastian stood immovably in his tailored dark three-piece suit. He slowly released Elena's hand, stepping back slightly to crouch down, bringing his handsome, angular face level with his son’s.
"Can you tell me exactly what she said to you while I was gone, Owen?" Sebastian asked gently, his deep voice softening significantly to comfort the boy.
Owen sniffled, rubbing his nose with the back of his small hand. He looked at Elena, who gave him an encouraging, tearful nod, before looking back into his father's cold, but loving, eyes.
"I fell down and scraped my knee," Owen explained, his voice trembling but remarkably clear. "Elena hugged me and put a bandage on it. I called her Mommy by accident because she smelled nice like Mommy used to. Vivienne saw. She pulled me into the library and locked the door. She said if I ever called Elena that name again, you would take Elena down to the basement and shoot her in the head. She said you hated weak boys who cried for servants."
Vivienne let out a blood-curdling scream of denial. "He is lying! The maid told him to say that! She has been stealing information and trying to frame me for it!"
Sebastian rose slowly to his full height. He turned his broad, powerful shoulders toward his fiancée. The extremely short stubble on his jawline seemed to bristle with barely contained violence.
"Would Elena risk her life in this room to manufacture such a claim?" Sebastian asked.
"Yes!" Vivienne shrieked, pointing viciously at the housemaid. "Look at her! She thinks she's better than me just because she plays the innocent victim!"
Sebastian didn't look at Elena. He kept his perceptive eyes locked entirely on Vivienne, dissecting her panic, reading the absolute guilt written plainly across her flushed, rosy skin. He had survived in the criminal underworld by being an unparalleled judge of human character. He knew when someone was lying to him, and he knew the awful, crushing weight of the truth.
"Are you capable of telling the truth, Vivienne, or must I extract it from you?" Sebastian asked, taking a slow, deliberate step toward her.
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"I love you, Sebastian!" she wept, falling to her knees on the luxurious rug, the sculpted satin of her gown pooling around her. She clasped her hands together in a begging gesture. "Please, darling! My father forced me to do it! He said she was getting too close to you! He said your son needed to understand that the Shaw family was in control now! I didn't want to scare him!"
"Did you believe that weaponizing the death of a woman to traumatize a five-year-old would secure your place at the top of this empire?" Sebastian asked, his voice dropping to a terrifying, gravelly whisper.
