Chapter 7
While his men mobilized the armory, Silas descended into the cold, stone-lined basement of the mansion. The bright, airy aesthetics of the upper floors did not reach down here. A single, harsh bulb illuminated the heavy iron bars of the holding cell. Inside, Daphne Whitmore paced the confined space like a caged animal, her elegant satin gown now smudged with dust and dirt from the concrete floor.
She stopped pacing when she saw Silas standing on the other side of the bars. His hands were tucked casually into the pockets of his dark trousers, his angular face expressionless.
“Are you enjoying your new accommodations, Daphne?” Silas asked, his deep voice echoing chillingly off the stone walls.
Daphne rushed the bars, gripping the iron until her knuckles turned white. “You are a dead man, Silas! When my father finds out you put me in here, he will skin you alive! You are throwing away an empire for a servant!”
“Do you still believe your father’s empire holds more weight than my own?” Silas asked, tilting his head slightly.
“He has twice your numbers!” Daphne shrieked, her American accent cracking with desperation. “He has the politicians in his pocket! You cannot win a war against the Whitmore family, and you certainly can't win it with a fractured alliance! Let me out, and I will tell him it was a misunderstanding.”
“Do you think I am foolish enough to believe you would ever advocate for peace after this humiliation?” Silas asked.
Daphne’s rosy skin was splotchy with tears and rage. “Why are you doing this? I was going to be a perfect wife! I was going to give you heirs! That maid is nothing! She has nothing to offer you but a pretty face, and I ruined that too!”
“Is a pretty face the only value you see in a human being, Daphne?” Silas asked, his dark eyes narrowing with profound disgust. “Did you honestly think I would ever let you raise my children when you possess the heart of a sadistic monster?”
“I demand to be released!” Daphne screamed, rattling the heavy iron bars. “You cannot keep me down here!”
“Who is going to come down here and unlock this door for you?” Silas asked quietly, his voice stripping away the last remnants of her arrogant hope.
Daphne fell silent, her chest heaving. The reality of her isolation finally crashed down upon her. She was not a queen holding court; she was a hostage in a heavily fortified compound that was preparing for a bloodbath.
“Are you prepared to sit in the dark and listen while I dismantle your father’s legacy piece by piece?” Silas asked, turning his broad shoulders away from the cell.
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“He will kill her!” Daphne yelled to his retreating back. “My father will find out why this happened, and he will put a bullet between Nora’s eyes! You can't protect her forever!”
“Do you believe anyone will ever get close enough to her to try?” Silas asked, not looking back as he climbed the concrete stairs, leaving her alone in the crushing darkness.
