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.
Estelle 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 facade entirely destroyed.
"Cameron, you cannot believe this is real," Estelle 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?"
Cameron stood immovably in his tailored dark three-piece suit. He slowly crouched down, bringing his handsome, angular face level with his son’s.
"Can you tell me exactly what she made you do today, Milo?" Cameron asked gently, his deep voice softening significantly to comfort the boy.
Milo sniffled, rubbing his nose with the back of his small hand. He looked at Liora, who gave him an encouraging, tearful nod, before looking back into his father's cold, but loving, eyes.
"We were playing a game," Milo explained, his voice trembling but remarkably clear. "She gave me the shiny bracelet. She said Liora loves shiny things, and that if I slipped it into her pocket when she wasn't looking, it would be a funny surprise. She promised not to tell anyone I did it."
Estelle 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!"
Cameron 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 Liora risk her life in this room to manufacture such a claim?" Cameron asked.
"Yes!" Estelle shrieked, pointing viciously at the housemaid. "Look at her! She thinks she's better than me just because she plays the innocent victim!"
Cameron didn't look at Liora. He kept his perceptive eyes locked entirely on Estelle, 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, Estelle, or must I extract it from you?" Cameron asked, taking a slow, deliberate step toward her.
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"I love you, Cameron!" 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 a maid was standing in the way of our bloodline merger! I didn't want to hurt her! I just wanted her gone!"
"Did you believe that framing an innocent woman would secure your place at the head of this empire?" Cameron asked, his voice dropping to a terrifying, gravelly whisper.
