Chapter 3
The silence in the grand dining room was a physical, suffocating pressure. The tall candles flickering inside their silver candelabras seemed to be the only things moving. The bright, luminous colors of the room felt painfully sharp, illuminating the exact moment the polished illusion of the Ravenshaw empire began to violently fracture.
Felix froze. His entire body went rigid, the breath catching in his broad chest. His cold eyes looked briefly down at Aaron, the horrifying reality of his mother's murder cementing itself in his mind. The tragic accident he had mourned for six months had just been rewritten into a cold-blooded assassination, witnessed by his own silent son.
Slowly, terrifyingly, Felix’s eyes shifted. The movement was predatory, his gaze moving first toward Cecile, followed by a slight, deliberate turn of his head. His sharply defined jaw tightened until the bone threatened to snap under the pressure, the extremely short stubble on his face bristling with suppressed, explosive violence.
He held Cecile’s eyes in a cold, furious stare that promised absolute destruction. The mafia boss said nothing. His silence was infinitely more dangerous than a scream, stripping away her diamonds, her satin gown, and her lies, exposing the cruel, power-hungry monster trembling beneath.
Cecile stared up at Felix, her fair, rosy skin drained of all color, leaving her looking sickly and translucent. She gripped the fabric of her sculpted satin evening gown, her hands shaking violently. She opened her mouth to speak, to scream a denial, to call the child a liar, but her vocal cords were paralyzed by the sheer, overwhelming tension radiating from the man standing opposite her.
"Are you struggling to find a suitable explanation, Cecile?" Felix finally asked.
His deep, low voice remained completely level. The measured pause between his words was a calculated instrument of psychological torture. He did not step toward her, but the sheer gravity of his presence pressed her against the wall.
"Felix, darling, please," Cecile gasped, her American accent pitching high and breathless with panic. "The boy is confused! The maid is lying! She has been trying to poison you against me since the day I moved in! She wants to ruin this engagement! You cannot believe a servant over your future wife!"
"Does a confused child invent the specific mechanics of a murder?" Felix inquired, his perceptive eyes narrowing into cold slits.
"She put him up to it!" Cecile cried, tears of sheer desperation welling in her eyes. She pointed a shaking, diamond-adorned finger at the housemaid. "She wants to take my place! She wants the power!"
Enid held her ground, her elegant posture unwavering despite the terror hammering in her chest. She instinctively wrapped her arm around Aaron, pulling the frightened boy securely against her black maid dress, shielding him from the socialite's venomous panic.
"Would my son fabricate a nightmare to destroy the foundation of this family?" Felix asked, his voice echoing coldly off the ivory-paneled walls.
"Yes!" Cecile shrieked, looking frantically around the room at the seated guests, silently begging someone—anyone—to intervene. But the elite crowd sat immobilized, their fair faces pale with shock, utterly unwilling to cross the mafia boss.
Felix slowly swept his gaze across the room, taking in the numerous guests sitting frozen at their polished walnut tables.
"Have you all finished your meals?" Felix asked the room at large.
It was phrased as a question, but the command hidden within it was unmistakable and absolute. Chairs scraped violently against the polished hardwood and marble floors as the guests practically scrambled to their feet. There were no polite farewells, no lingering handshakes. Men in tailored suits and women in evening gowns fled the bright, elegant room with frantic urgency, eager to escape the blast radius of Felix Ravenshaw’s wrath.
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Within ninety seconds, the expansive dining hall was completely empty, save for Felix, Cecile, Enid, and Aaron. The heavy mahogany doors slammed shut, sealing the room and locking Cecile inside with her greatest nightmare.
"Did you truly believe you could murder my mother and remain standing at my table?" Felix asked, turning his terrifying focus entirely back to the woman in the satin gown.
