Chapter 4
The air in the dining hall crackled with a lethal tension. Sienna, cornered against the gilded paneling, realized that her aristocratic entitlement held absolutely no weight against the cold, calculating fury of the mafia boss.
"You need me!" Sienna shrieked, grasping at the last shreds of her political power and family influence. "My family controls the western distribution lines! We built this alliance together! If you break this engagement, my father will start a war that will burn this city to the ground!"
"Do you think the threat of a war frightens me more than a monster sleeping in my bed?" Garrett inquired, tilting his head slightly, his cold, observant eyes narrowing into dark, lethal slits.
He didn't wait for her to process the absolute lack of mercy in his gaze. He reached into the inner pocket of his tailored dark three-piece suit, his refined tattoos catching the golden light, and withdrew a heavy, encrypted mobile phone.
"Are you waiting in the grand foyer, Marcus?" Garrett asked into the receiver. He paused, listening to his unseen underboss on the other end of the line. "Will you bring two men into the dining room immediately?"
Sienna gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in sheer, unadulterated terror. She knew exactly what Marcus did for the Whitmore family. He was the man who made Garrett’s problems disappear without a trace.
"No! Garrett, please!" Sienna shrieked, kicking off her expensive heels and scrambling backward across the marble floor, her burgundy gown dragging behind her. "You can't do this! I am a Voss! My family will kill you! My father will slaughter your entire syndicate for this!"
The heavy mahogany double doors of the dining hall swung open violently. Marcus, a towering man with a heavily scarred face and a dark trench coat, stepped into the room, flanked by two equally intimidating enforcers. They moved with absolute, silent precision, ignoring the lavish surroundings and focusing entirely on their boss.
"Will you escort my former fiancée to the holding cells in the sub-basement?" Garrett asked, not taking his eyes off the weeping woman backed against the wall.
"No! No, please!" Sienna shrieked, kicking and thrashing wildly as the two enforcers reached out and grabbed her by the arms. They hauled her to her feet with effortless strength, the delicate fabric of her elegant satin evening gown tearing audibly at the seams. "I loved you, Garrett! You owe me! I saved you from a pathetic life with the help!"
"Will you ensure she is gagged if she continues to scream, Marcus?" Garrett inquired, casually adjusting the open collar of his dark suit.
Marcus nodded grimly. "Yes, boss. Let's go, princess."
The enforcers dragged Sienna backward toward the doors. Her threats devolved into hysterical, panicked sobs that echoed down the grand hallway until the heavy doors clicked shut behind them, sealing the dining room in a profound, suffocating silence once more. The engagement was violently, irreparably over.
Garrett stood perfectly still for a long moment. The tension slowly bled out of his powerful shoulders. He turned his head, his dark, swept-back hair catching the light of the crystal chandeliers, and looked across the room to where Hannah was standing. She was still keeping Ben tucked safely against her fitted black maid dress.
Hannah was shaking. Her sophisticated uniform felt incredibly thin in the aftermath of the violence. She had just witnessed the destruction of a massive mafia alliance, all because she had bled for a broken water glass. She looked at the mafia boss, terrified of the unpredictable storm that was surely about to consume the estate.
Garrett walked slowly back across the polished marble floor. He dropped to one knee, completely ignoring the crease it put in his expensive trousers, bringing himself down to his son's eye level.
"Are you harmed anywhere, Ben?" Garrett asked, his deep voice softening just a fraction, losing the lethal edge it had carried moments before. He gently reached out, his tattooed hand hovering over the boy's cheek before he softly brushed a stray hair behind his ear.
May you like
"I'm sorry, Daddy," Ben whispered, burying his face against Garrett's dark tailored suit, his small hands clutching the fine wool. "I didn't mean to break the glass. I just wanted to help Hannah."
"Would I ever punish you for an accident, Ben?" Garrett asked, pulling his son gently against his chest, holding the fragile boy in a fierce, bone-crushing embrace. He closed his eyes, fighting back a wave of agonizing guilt that threatened to drown him. How had he slept under this roof while his child and the woman he cared for were manipulated by a monster?
