Chapter 8
The silence in the grand dining hall stretched taut, a physical weight that pressed down upon the seated guests. The bright, airy colors of the room felt suddenly stark, exposing the raw, underlying brutality of the situation.
Corbin remained perfectly still, his tailored dark suit acting as an impenetrable wall between his family and the woman who had sought to destroy their peace.
"Corbin, darling, please," Evelina stammered, her American accent trembling uncontrollably. She took a stumbling step backward, her high heels catching on the thick patterned rug. The sculpted satin of her evening gown seemed to lose its luster. "He was throwing a tantrum in the kitchen! He was going to ruin the dinner! I only put him in there for a moment to calm down!"
"Does a dark, locked room possess the qualities necessary to calm a grieving child?" Corbin finally asked. His deep, low voice rolled through the quiet room, the measured pauses striking like a physical blow.
"I didn't know what else to do!" Evelina cried, tears of panic and frustration finally spilling over her fair cheeks, ruining her pristine makeup. "He won't accept me! I am your fiancée! I am the lady of this house! I had to assert my authority!"
"Do you believe authority is established through the terrorization of a six-year-old boy?" Corbin inquired, his cold, perceptive eyes dissecting her false narrative with surgical precision.
"You can't do this, Corbin," Evelina hissed, her panic mutating into cornered, vicious entitlement. "My family brings the eastern ports to this alliance. If you humiliate me based on the ramblings of a child and a maid, my father will declare war. He will shut down your supply lines."
"Will he declare war?" Corbin asked, tilting his head with dangerous curiosity. The loose strands of wavy hair falling over his forehead contrasted violently with the absolute, apocalyptic death promised in his cold eyes. "Or will he thank me for returning his defective, cruel daughter before she caused a war he could not possibly win?"
Evelina’s mouth dropped open. The color drained entirely from her lips. She realized she had absolutely no power left in the room. The alliance was dead, severed by her own psychopathic ambition.
"Get your hands off me!" Evelina screamed as two massive men in tailored dark suits stepped forward from the shadows and grabbed her by the arms. She thrashed wildly, her sculpted satin gown twisting awkwardly around her legs. "You are choosing a servant and a spoiled brat over a queen! You are a fool, Corbin!"
"Are empires built by men who allow their children to be tortured in their own homes?" Corbin inquired, entirely unaffected by her venom.
He didn't wait for a response. He slowly turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the silent, paralyzed guests.
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"Is this engagement dinner concluded?" Corbin asked the room at large.
The question was a lethal command disguised as an inquiry. The guests immediately understood. Chairs scraped softly against the polished marble floors as the most powerful men and women in the American mafia stood up in unison. They didn't speak. They simply turned and began a swift, silent exodus from the luminous dining hall, eager to escape the blast radius of the Boss's impending wrath.
