Chapter 11
The silence that followed Damian's question was absolute. It hung heavily in the brilliant, cinematic light of the grand dining hall, pressing down on the terrified guests and the frozen waitstaff. Nora Ellis stood her ground, the weight of the two-year-old boy in her arms anchoring her against the overwhelming, deeply masculine presence of the Mafia Boss.
"Every night you were away, sir," Nora answered, her American accent steady despite the tremor in her hands. Her fair, rosy skin was pale, but her eyes held a fierce, unbreakable resolve. "Since she moved in. She locked the nursery door from the outside and dismissed the night staff."
The admission hit the room with the force of a physical blow. The wealthy, white American elites sitting at the mahogany table exchanged horrified glances. In their world, violence was a tool of business, but the systematic abuse of a helpless child of the bloodline was an unforgivable, lethal offense.
Damian Whitmore did not react with a violent outburst. The terrifying, cold control he exerted over his own rage was infinitely more menacing. His sharply defined jawline locked. He slowly turned his head, his cold, intimidating eyes fixing upon Camille Sterling.
Camille shrank back, her expensive evening gown swishing against the floor. The radiant, fake smile was completely gone, replaced by a mask of sheer, unadulterated terror. Her diamond necklace sparkled mockingly in the bright chandelier light.
"Damian," Camille gasped, her voice pitching high and breathless. "She is lying! She is a jealous servant! Oliver is just going through a phase—"
"Silence," Damian commanded, his volume incredibly low, yet it severed her words like a blade.
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He turned his attention back to Nora. "Take him to the east wing security suite," Damian instructed softly, ensuring his deep voice wouldn't further terrify the child clinging to her. "Lock the door from the inside. Do not open it for anyone except me."
"Yes, Mr. Whitmore," Nora said, immediately turning and walking swiftly out of the dining hall, carrying the most precious asset of the syndicate to safety.
