Chapter 6
The luminous, airy warmth of the dining room offered no solace to the woman kneeling on the patterned rug. Daphne sobbed uncontrollably, her face buried in her manicured hands, her diamond engagement ring catching the bright light in a mocking display of failed ambition. The silence stretched, tight and unforgiving, broken only by her ragged, panicked weeping.
Vincent stood over her, an imposing monolith of masculine power. His polished leather shoes rested mere inches from the hem of her ruined silk gown. He waited, his patience a weapon as sharp and precise as a scalpel.
"Are you prepared to provide the combination to your safe, or must I have my men remove the wall to retrieve the medication?" Vincent asked, his deep voice carrying a measured, lethal calm.
Daphne flinched violently at the threat. She dropped her hands, her fair skin streaked with ruined mascara, her eyes wide with primal terror. She knew the stories of what Vincent Caldwell did to traitors within his syndicate.
"I'll give it to you!" Daphne choked out, the venom finally breaking through her tears as self-preservation took over. She quickly rattled off a series of numbers, her voice trembling.
Vincent did not react physically. His high-bridged nose and sharply defined jawline remained locked in a mask of cold composure. He reached into the inner pocket of his tailored suit jacket and retrieved a sleek, encrypted smartphone. He dialed a single digit and pressed the phone to his ear.
"Will you send a security detail to the grand dining room?" Vincent asked into the receiver. "Will you also dispatch a man to the east wing dressing room to retrieve a prescribed medication from the wall safe?"
He relayed the combination smoothly, his tone devoid of any emotion.
"Vincent, please," Daphne begged, reaching out to grasp the leg of his tailored trousers. "My father will kill you when he finds out the engagement is broken! He controls the shipping ports! He will burn this city to the ground to avenge this insult!"
Vincent looked down at the trembling woman clinging to his leg. He felt absolutely nothing for her. The affection he had feigned for the sake of the syndicate merger evaporated instantly, leaving behind a cold, calculating void that craved only retribution.
"Do you expect me to harbor a treacherous abuser under my roof to appease a shipping magnate?" Vincent asked.
He didn't wait for her to answer. He reached down with his artistic, tattooed hands and forcefully peeled her fingers off his suit. He stepped back, severing all physical contact with her forever.
"Is there any reason I shouldn't have my men escort you to the basement holding cells immediately?" Vincent inquired, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt with immaculate precision.
"You can't do this!" Daphne screamed, crawling forward on her knees. "I am a Lennox! You need my family!"
"Are the consequences of your treason my concern?" Vincent asked.
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The heavy walnut doors of the dining room swung open. Four of Vincent's heavily armed security operatives entered the bright, luminous room. They wore dark suits and grim expressions, moving with ruthless, silent efficiency. They hauled Daphne to her feet, ignoring her hysterical screams and desperate pleas for mercy. They dragged her out of the room, her sculpted satin gown tearing as she fought uselessly against their iron grip.
"Have you finally realized the price of your ambition, Daphne?" Vincent asked softly, as the heavy doors slammed shut, sealing her fate.
