Chapter 6
"What are you going to do?" Evelyn breathed, her expensive formal gown trembling as her knees threatened to buckle. She looked frantically around the room, making eye contact with the wealthy guests and the capos who had remained seated during the chaos. "Paul! Richard! Are you going to let him do this to me? I built this empire with his father!"
None of the men moved. They kept their eyes firmly fixed on the ruined tablecloth, entirely unwilling to meet her desperate gaze. In the world of the Vance syndicate, challenging the Don was suicide. Attempting to intervene when the Don’s child had been harmed was a guarantee of a closed-casket funeral.
Alex did not even acknowledge the silent crowd. He reached into the pocket of his dark three-piece suit and pulled out a heavy, encrypted smartphone. He tapped the screen once, raising it to his ear.
"Vincent," Alex commanded softly into the phone.
"Boss," a rough, professional voice answered immediately from the other end.
"I need the medical wing fully staffed. Now," Alex ordered, his voice unwavering. "Maya and Rosie are coming down. If the burn specialist is not waiting in the lobby in five minutes, find a new specialist."
"Understood, Alex. On it," Vincent confirmed, the line clicking dead.
Alex lowered the phone and looked back at his mother. "My wife and daughter will heal. But the infection in this house must be permanently removed."
"Alex, please," Evelyn begged, dropping entirely the aristocratic pride she had worn like armor. She sank to her knees on the marble floor, completely heedless of the spilled soup staining her gown. She clasped her hands together in a pathetic plea. "I will leave. I will pack my bags tonight and fly to the villa in Italy. You will never see me again. I swear to God, I will never speak to them again. Just let me live!"
"You are not going to Italy, Evelyn," Alex said, his deep, raspy voice echoing the absolute finality of a judge delivering a sentence. "You would use the distance to consolidate power. You would whisper in the ears of the old capos, telling them I have gone mad. You would plot a coup from across the ocean."
"I wouldn't!" Evelyn shrieked. "I just want to live in peace!"
"You will live in peace," Alex promised softly. "But you will not leave this estate."
Evelyn blinked, confusion temporarily overriding her terror. "What do you mean?"
"The underground bunker beneath the wine cellar was built to withstand a siege," Alex explained, his tone completely conversational but laced with deadly intent. "It has no windows. It has no communication lines to the outside world. It is a completely isolated concrete box."
Evelyn’s rosy complexion turned a sickly, translucent white. "You are putting me in solitary confinement? Alex, no! I will go mad in the dark!"
"You will be provided with adequate food and water," Alex stated coldly. "But you will never see the sun again. You will never wear silk or diamonds. You will wear the uniform of a servant. And you will spend the rest of your natural life in absolute silence, thinking about the moment you decided to put your hands on my daughter."
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"You can't do this to me!" Evelyn screamed, thrashing wildly as she realized the true, horrifying extent of his punishment. "Kill me! Just shoot me, Alex!"
"Death is a mercy you have not earned," Alex whispered. He turned his head toward the bodyguards sealing the exits. "Take her."
