Chapter 3
The cascading chandeliers seemed to dim under the suffocating weight of Henry’s quiet revelation. Estelle’s sculpted satin gown suddenly looked like armor that was far too heavy for her to carry. The blood completely drained from her face, leaving her fair skin ashen in the golden light. She opened her mouth to speak, to defend herself against the accusations of a six-year-old boy, but the words withered and died in her throat.
Vera stood paralyzed next to the empty velvet chair. Her hands gripped the fabric of her white apron so tightly her knuckles had turned stark white. She had never wanted to be the center of attention, especially not in a room filled with the most ruthless criminals and power brokers on the eastern seaboard.
Adrian did not look at his son. His cold, observant eyes remained locked onto Estelle like the crosshairs of a sniper rifle. He rested one hand on the back of the chair he had pulled out for Vera, the refined tattoos on his fingers stark against the champagne velvet.
"Why would my son lie to me, Estelle?" Adrian asked, his deep voice barely rising above a whisper, yet carrying with absolute, terrifying clarity across the massive dining room.
"Adrian, darling, it's a misunderstanding," Estelle stammered, her diamond earrings shaking violently as a tremor ran through her body. "Children have such vivid imaginations. He must have misunderstood my instructions to the kitchen staff."
"Did you instruct the kitchen to starve my household staff?" Adrian inquired, his tone perfectly measured, devoid of any emotional inflection.
"No! Of course not!" Estelle gasped, looking frantically around the table at the silent guests, desperate for an ally. "Vera is simply dramatic! She is trying to ruin our evening, Adrian. She has been jealous of me since the day I moved into this mansion!"
"Is that what you truly believe?" Adrian asked, stepping slightly closer to the edge of the table. The small neck tattoo above his collar shifted slightly as he tilted his head, his wavy hair catching the light of the tall ivory candles.
"It's the truth!" Estelle cried, her voice pitching an octave higher as her panic fully set in. "Look at her! She's a manipulative little snake wrapped in a maid's uniform!"
Adrian turned his head slowly, his gaze sweeping over the crowd of mob bosses, politicians, and socialites who were holding their breath.
"Have you all finished your meals?" Adrian asked the room at large.
It was a question, but everyone in the room knew it was a definitive command to leave. Immediately, chairs scraped against the polished marble floor. Men and women of immense wealth and power stood up in unison, abandoning their fine porcelain plates and half-empty crystal glasses. They moved with quiet, terrifying efficiency, filing out of the dining room without saying a single word of congratulations or goodbye.
Within ninety seconds, the massive, opulent dining room was completely empty, save for Adrian, Estelle, Vera, and young Henry. The heavy walnut doors clicked shut, echoing like a gunshot in the cavernous space.
May you like
Adrian turned his attention back to the trembling maid.
"Will you sit down now, Vera?" Adrian asked, gesturing to the velvet chair with his tattooed hand.
