Chapter 2
The bright, elegant warmth of the dining room suddenly felt suffocating. The golden light cascading from the crystal chandeliers illuminated the profound anxiety etched into Mina’s delicate features. She stood frozen beside the serving console, the heavy weight of the room’s attention entirely focused on her. The eyes of the most dangerous and wealthy individuals in the city were fixed upon the serving area, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere.
Mina looked directly at Cyrus. The Mafia boss held her gaze, his expression an unreadable mask of chiseled stone. The artistic tattoos on his hands flexed slightly as he rested them against the edge of the long dining table. He did not look at his fiancée. He did not acknowledge her confident lie.
"Mina. Did he bite you?" Cyrus asked.
His deep voice was quiet and deliberate, yet it carried an unmistakable, lethal authority. The measured pause between his words acted like a gravitational pull, sucking the air straight out of the room.
The effect was instantaneous. Every single guest at the adjacent tables stopped eating. Forks hovered over gold-rimmed porcelain; crystal wine glasses were lowered slowly to the table. The polite, affluent chatter died in an instant. The room grew so silent that the soft panting of the elderly German shepherd became audible. Dozens of rosy-cheeked faces turned toward the head of the table, watching the Mafia boss direct his terrifying focus onto a servant.
Mina swallowed hard, her throat painfully dry. She was terrified. Evelyn’s family commanded a powerful syndicate of their own, and crossing the future wife of Cyrus Langford was akin to signing her own death warrant. Her slender fingers curled tightly against the crisp white fabric of her apron. Her expressive inner brows lifted anxiously as she stared into Cyrus’s cold, perceptive eyes.
"Well? Did the dog bite you, Mina?" Evelyn prodded, her voice edged with a sharp, impatient condescension. "Tell him what happened."
"Why are you attempting to answer for her, Evelyn?" Cyrus asked, his gaze never leaving the housemaid.
Evelyn’s faint smile faltered for a microsecond. "I am simply trying to help the poor girl, darling. She is clearly in shock. She shouldn't even be working tonight in her condition."
Cyrus ignored the interruption. He waited in the profound silence, offering the housemaid the space to speak.
Maintaining strict eye contact with Cyrus, Mina drew a ragged, shallow breath. The truth was a dangerous weapon, but looking down at Atlas, who remained quietly and faithfully pressed against her leg, she found a desperate spark of courage.
"He was trying to protect me," Mina answered.
Her voice was incredibly fragile, trembling under the weight of the luminous, crowded room. Moisture gathered rapidly along her lower eyelids, making her beautiful eyes shine like glass in the candlelight. After speaking, she pressed her gently curved lips tightly together, terrified of the violence that admitting this truth might bring upon her.
"Protect you?" a wealthy senator asked from the nearest table, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Protect you from what?"
"Are the guests of this house conducting an interrogation, Senator?" Cyrus asked softly, silencing the older man immediately.
Evelyn’s fair skin turned a mottled shade of red. She took a step closer to Cyrus, her sculpted emerald gown rustling aggressively.
"She is lying to protect that vicious beast!" Evelyn hissed, keeping her voice low to avoid making a further scene, though the room hung on her every word. "I saw it happen, Cyrus! He snapped at her!"
May you like
"Do dogs typically protect their victims after attacking them?" Cyrus asked, his voice dropping into a register that promised absolute devastation.
He slowly pushed away from his chair, his towering, masculine frame casting a long shadow over the pristine white tablecloth. He stepped away from the head table, moving with deliberate, predatory grace toward the serving console.
