Chapter 6
The heavily armed bodyguards moved with swift, unyielding efficiency. Two massive men hauled Troy up from the tangled ribbons by his expensive suit jacket, ignoring his groans of pain as they dragged him toward the service doors. Another pair converged on Keira, yanking the thirty-two-year-old woman out of the crushed gift boxes, her high heels dragging helplessly across the polished floor.
"Selene, you can't do this!" Opal shrieked, finally finding her voice as a guard grabbed her firmly by the arm, pulling her away from the padded bench. "The Chicago outfit will hear about this! They will burn this estate to the ground! You are starting a war you cannot win!"
"I did not start this war, Opal," Selene replied smoothly, her voice a chilling hum that carried over the chaos. "But I assure you, I will be the one to finish it. Get them out of my sight."
The heavy mahogany doors slammed shut behind the disgraced Drake family, plunging the pavilion back into a serene, albeit destroyed, silence. The bright, cinematic light continued to pour into the room, illuminating the scattered ribbons, the crushed boxes, and the profound isolation of the Mafia boss standing in the center of the wreckage.
Selene looked down at the paper birthday crown in her hand. The colorful cardboard was still slightly creased from Keira’s cruel grip. Her chest tightened with a sudden, overwhelming surge of maternal protectiveness. She had spent her entire adult life building impenetrable walls around her empire, assuming her reputation alone would keep her son safe. Today proved that reputation was not enough; the monsters would always try to slip through the cracks.
"Boss," a deep voice rumbled from behind her.
Selene turned to see Marcus, her lead Capo and most trusted enforcer. He was a broad-shouldered man in a sharp suit, his American accent clipped and professional. He had arrived the moment the security alert was triggered.
"The perimeter is locked down," Marcus reported, his eyes scanning the ruined pavilion. "No one enters or leaves without your explicit authorization. What are your orders regarding the prisoners?"
"Leave them in the dark," Selene commanded softly. "No food, no water, no medical attention. I want them desperate and exhausted before I begin the interrogations."
"Understood," Marcus nodded. "And what about Chicago?"
"If Opal is telling the truth, the Chicago outfit used the Drakes as a Trojan horse," Selene explained, walking slowly toward the large windows looking out over the manicured grounds. "They expected Troy to marry me, gain access to the syndicate’s internal accounts, and then use the adoption records to blackmail me into stepping down. It was a long game."
"They underestimated you," Marcus noted quietly.
"They underestimated my love for my son," Selene corrected, her dark eyes flashing with a dangerous, lethal promise. "They thought I would hide his existence out of shame. They thought a mother’s love was a vulnerability they could exploit."
She turned back to Marcus, the elegant, powerful aura of the Mafia leader fully restored.
"Gather the council," Selene ordered, her voice ringing with absolute authority. "I want every Capo, every lieutenant, and every soldier ready for mobilization by nightfall. We are not going to wait for Chicago to make the next move. We are going to rip their supply lines apart before they even realize their spies have been compromised."
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"Yes, Boss," Marcus said, bowing his head slightly before turning to execute her commands.
Selene stood alone in the bright, beautiful pavilion for a moment longer. She looked at the stationary carousel, its painted horses frozen in time. The party was over, but the true celebration of her power had just begun. She turned and walked purposefully toward the east wing, needing to hold her son and reassure him that as long as she drew breath, no one would ever put him in a box again.
