Chapter 5
The heavy mahogany doors slammed shut behind Clara and Toby, cutting off their rapid footsteps with a definitive, echoing thud. The grand banquet hall was plunged into a profound, ringing silence. The towering Christmas tree continued to sparkle with gold ornaments and burgundy ribbons, but the festive warmth of the room had entirely vanished, replaced by the freezing, calculated wrath of the mafia boss.
Vincent Hale turned his broad, masculine frame fully toward Rosalind Voss. He did not move to strike her, but his stillness was far more lethal than any sudden outburst of violence. His tailored dark three-piece suit seemed to absorb the light as he walked slowly around the edge of the carved walnut table.
"Did you honestly believe you could lock the matriarch of this syndicate in a freezing basement and I would simply thank you for the financial savings?" Vincent asked, his deep, measured voice dropping into a register that shook the very air.
Rosalind backed away, her elegant evening gown catching on the leg of a velvet dining chair. The aristocratic polish was gone, leaving only naked terror. "Vincent, you have to understand! I was trying to consolidate power! She hated me! She was trying to talk you out of the marriage!"
"Does her disapproval of your character justify treating her like an animal in my own home?" Vincent asked, stopping just a few feet away from her.
"I fed her!" Rosalind shrieked defensively, tears ruining her flawless makeup. "I kept her alive! I just needed her out of the way until the wedding was finalized and the assets were transferred to my name! I was going to let her out!"
Vincent’s jaw clenched so tightly the bone looked as though it might snap. The sheer, audacious greed of her plan was staggering. She had tortured his mother for a signature on a marriage certificate.
"Who helped you forge the medical documents confirming her departure abroad, Rosalind?" Vincent asked softly. "Which of my men sold his loyalty for your stolen coin?"
Rosalind swallowed hard, her fair skin splotchy with panic. "I won't tell you! If I tell you, you'll kill me! They are the only leverage I have left to walk out of this mansion alive!"
"Do you believe leverage exists for a woman who has just admitted to kidnapping my blood?" Vincent countered.
He didn't wait for her to answer. He turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the four heavily armed guards stationed near the service doors.
"Are you men going to secure this traitor, or must I break her legs myself before we walk downstairs?" Vincent asked, his command absolute.
Two massive enforcers stepped forward instantly, moving with terrifying, synchronized efficiency. They grabbed Rosalind roughly by the arms, entirely ignoring the expensive fabric of her burgundy gown.
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"Get your hands off me!" Rosalind screamed as they dragged her backward toward the corridor. "My family will not stand for this! You need our political connections, Vincent! You cannot survive without my father's alliance!"
"Do you expect me to fear a corrupt politician more than I despise a monster standing in my dining room?" Vincent asked to her retreating back. "Will you bring her down to the basement kitchen so she can see exactly what she has done?"
