Chapter 2
The quiet friction of the eraser against the paper seemed magnified in Nathaniel’s ears. The gentle weight of his fingertips stopped the paper from tearing, but it didn't stop the frantic movement of the little girl's hand. Sophie was rubbing so hard her knuckles were turning white, her small chest heaving with silent panic.
Lily froze beside the chair, the silver serving tray resting against her hip. Her expressive brows furrowed in immediate concern as she looked down at the three-year-old.
"Sophie," Nathaniel said, his deep voice carrying a low, soothing command that instantly drew her attention. "Stop for a moment."
Sophie finally lifted the eraser from the page. The smallest stick figure was completely gone, leaving behind only a gray smudge. She looked directly up at Nathaniel, her fair, rosy cheeks flushed, her eyes wet and searching his angular face.
"Can Lily stay if I'm gone?" Sophie asked.
Her voice was small and earnest. She kept the worn pink eraser clenched tightly in her hand, waiting as though she had just offered a completely reasonable solution to a massive problem.
Nathaniel’s breath hitched invisibly in his chest. The cold, perceptive eyes of the Mafia boss sharpened into lethal daggers. He didn't look at Lily. He didn't look at his guests.
His eyes shifted instantly, moving with terrifying slowness across the mahogany table until they locked onto his fiancée.
Vivienne Shaw met his gaze. For a fraction of a second, the polished, confident smile on her face faltered. But she recovered quickly, releasing a soft, dismissive laugh that sounded like crystal shattering on marble.
"She’s just being dramatic," Vivienne said, her tone light and breezy. Her smile remained affectionate, aimed at the guests around them, but her eyes studied Nathaniel’s reaction entirely too closely, searching his masculine features for approval.
After speaking the lie, Vivienne’s eyes darted toward the maid standing beside the child. She gave Lily a sharp, venomous warning glance—a silent, unambiguous promise of severe retribution if the young woman dared to speak another word.
Lily caught the glare, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. She knew the power Vivienne wielded in the mansion. She knew the consequences of stepping out of line. But she also looked down at the empty space on the drawing where a three-year-old girl had just erased her own existence to save her.
Nathaniel didn't respond to Vivienne. He slowly pushed his heavy chair back an inch, the sound cutting through the remaining polite chatter.
He looked directly at the beautiful housemaid standing beside his daughter. The cinematic lighting caught the subtle trembling of Lily’s hands holding the silver tray.
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"Lily," Nathaniel commanded, his deep voice low and measured, leaving absolutely no room for misinterpretation. "Stay with Sophie."
The effect was instantaneous. Every guest at the sprawling table stopped eating. Conversations died mid-sentence. Fifty pairs of eyes turned silently toward the head of the table, recognizing the catastrophic shift in the atmosphere.
