Chapter 6
Saskia backed away from Dorian, her diamond earrings swinging wildly as she shook her head. The absolute lack of sympathy in his questioning was terrifying. She had fundamentally miscalculated the mafia boss’s moral code. She believed that a man who dealt in violence and extortion would applaud her ruthlessness in securing an heir. Instead, he was dissecting her like a biological specimen.
“I didn't know she worked for you!” Saskia cried, gesturing frantically toward Flora. “She must have manipulated her way into your employment! She probably tracked the boy here and got a job just to ruin our wedding!”
Flora stood tall, her posture elegant and unyielding despite the tears on her face. “I have worked for the Ashcombe estate for three years. I was transferred to the main mansion last month because the head housekeeper retired. I didn't know my son was here until I walked into the banquet hall and served him dessert.”
Dorian kept his gaze locked on his fiancée. “Is it not a spectacular failure of your intelligence network that you kidnapped a child from a woman who was already on my payroll?”
Saskia’s chest heaved. “It doesn't matter! The papers are signed, Dorian. The adoption is legal and ironclad. The judge is in my pocket. If you undo this now, the scandal will rock the syndicate. The rival families will see it as weakness. You need to maintain the narrative. We banish the maid, pay her off, and proceed as planned!”
Ellis stepped forward, grabbing Dorian’s pant leg. The boy looked up at the towering mafia boss. “Please don't let her send Mommy away again. I don't want to be a prince. I want to go home.”
Dorian looked down at the boy. For the briefest moment, the cold, observant eyes softened. He had grown fond of Ellis over the past few months. The boy was smart, quiet, and possessed a resilience that Dorian respected. Knowing now that this resilience was forged in the fire of Saskia’s psychological abuse ignited a dark, violent anger deep within his chest.
Dorian looked back up at Saskia. “Do you truly believe a fabricated scandal terrifies me more than a traitor sleeping in my own bed?”
Saskia swallowed hard, the reality of her physical danger finally registering. She was in a soundproof study with a mafia boss, a mother whose life she had destroyed, and guards standing just outside the door.
“I am not a traitor!” Saskia insisted, her voice trembling. “I am your partner! Everything I did was to secure your legacy! If you hurt me, my people will know! The shelter board is heavily connected to the mayor’s office!”
“Are you attempting to threaten me with politicians I already own, Saskia?” Dorian asked, taking another slow, measured step toward her. “Do you think a mayor will risk a war with my family over a child trafficker in a satin gown?”
May you like
Saskia hit the edge of the bookshelf, cornered. The luminous, warm light of the study seemed to mock the absolute despair settling into her bones. She had no leverage left.
“Why did you do it, really?” Dorian asked, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. “Did you believe controlling my heir would eventually give you control over my empire?”
