Chapter 9
The warm, golden light of the ballroom seemed to focus entirely on the space between the Mafia boss and the sophisticated housemaid. The clean white balance of the video colors highlighted the flawless, rosy skin of Ivy’s delicate oval face. She did not flinch as Adrian approached her.
"I suspected, sir," Ivy replied, her American accent calm but laced with an underlying, righteous anger. "I am the one who manages the guest lists and the private correspondence for the estate."
Estelle let out a sharp, hysterical scoff from the head table. "You are going to take the word of a glorified servant over your own fiancée? She is probably the one who set the fire to frame me!"
Adrian ignored Estelle completely. His penetrating eyes remained fixed solely on Ivy. The unspoken dynamic between them crackled in the bright air. There was a mutual respect there, forged in the quiet observations of a household built on dangerous secrets.
"Tell me what you know, Ivy," Adrian commanded gently, the deep rumble of his voice offering her absolute protection to speak freely in front of the city's elite.
Ivy took a slow, grounding breath. She rested her hands on the back of Agnes’s velvet chair, her posture impeccably elegant.
"Three days ago," Ivy began, her voice ringing clearly across the silent banquet hall. "Miss Monroe hosted a private luncheon in the solarium. I was assigned to serve the tea. Among her guests was a man who is not a member of your organization, Mr. Kingsley. He was a freelance arsonist known to operate in the southern districts."
A collective murmur of shock rippled through the guests. Estelle gasped, her hand flying to her throat as the lie she had built was methodically dismantled by the woman who poured her drinks.
"I overheard them discussing a timeline," Ivy continued, her almond-shaped eyes never wavering from Adrian’s face. "Miss Monroe handed him an envelope thick with cash. She told him the bakery needed to be completely leveled before the hotel opening tonight, so the zoning permits for the new parking structure could be expedited tomorrow morning."
"You lying bitch!" Estelle screamed, her vanity completely destroyed by panic. She lunged forward, her diamond heels clicking aggressively as she raised her hands to attack the maid.
Adrian did not even have to move. He simply shifted his broad shoulders slightly, positioning his tailored three-piece suit directly into Estelle’s path.
Estelle crashed into his chest, bouncing off his solid, athletic frame. She stumbled backward, tears ruining her makeup, her satin gown looking suddenly cheap and garish in the bright light.
"It's a lie!" Estelle sobbed, pointing a shaking finger at Ivy. "She's jealous of me! She's always looking at you, Adrian! She wants to ruin us!"
"The only thing ruined here," Adrian said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, dead calm, "is you."
He looked past his sobbing fiancée, his mind instantly analyzing the tactical reality of the situation. Estelle had paid for the hit, but the arsonist had failed to kill Agnes. That meant the arsonist was a loose end, a man who could tie the Mafia boss’s fiancée to a horrific crime.
Adrian turned his full, intense focus back to the beautiful maid.
May you like
"The man in the solarium," Adrian said, his voice low and tight with controlled violence.
"Yes, sir," Ivy nodded, anticipating his question.
