Chapter 5
The heavy doors clicked shut, plunging the vast, luminous dining hall into a profound, ringing silence. The cascading crystal chandeliers continued to cast their warm golden light over the abandoned gold-rimmed porcelain and half-empty wine glasses. The opulent space, designed for celebration, now felt like a gilded cage.
Selene backed away from the head table, her heels clicking unsteadily against the polished marble floor. She wrapped her arms around her waist, a defensive posture that crushed the sculpted satin of her expensive gown. Her diamond earrings shook as she wept, her carefully constructed facade entirely destroyed.
"Alistair, you cannot believe this," Selene sobbed, her chest heaving. "My family arranged this marriage! We are supposed to unite our syndicates! Are you going to throw all of that away because of a jealous child?"
Alistair stood immovably in his tailored dark three-piece suit. He slowly crouched down, bringing his handsome, angular face level with his son’s.
"Can you tell me exactly what you heard today, Luke?" Alistair asked gently, his deep voice softening to comfort the boy.
Luke sniffled, rubbing his nose with the back of his small hand. He looked at June, who gave him an encouraging, tearful nod, before looking back into his father's cold, but loving, eyes.
"I was walking with June in the hallway," Luke explained, his voice trembling but remarkably clear. "Selene was in the parlor. She didn't see us. She was on the phone. She said, 'The hit happens tonight, right after the dessert course. Make sure Alistair is dead, and I will deal with the orphan tomorrow.'"
Selene let out a blood-curdling scream of denial. "He is lying! The maid told him to say that! She has been trying to take my place!"
Alistair rose slowly to his full height. He turned his broad, powerful shoulders toward his fiancée. The extremely short stubble on his jawline seemed to bristle with barely contained violence.
"Would June risk her life in this house to manufacture such a claim?" Alistair asked.
"Yes!" Selene shrieked, pointing viciously at the housemaid. "Look at her! She thinks she's better than me just because she plays mommy to your little brat!"
Alistair didn't look at June. He kept his perceptive eyes locked entirely on Selene, dissecting her panic, reading the absolute guilt written plainly across her flushed, rosy skin. He had survived in the criminal underworld by being an unparalleled judge of human character. He knew when someone was lying to him, and he knew the awful, crushing weight of the truth.
"Are you capable of telling the truth, Selene, or must I extract it from you?" Alistair asked, taking a slow, deliberate step toward her.
"I love you, Alistair!" she wept, falling to her knees on the luxurious rug, the sculpted satin of her gown pooling around her. She clasped her hands together in a begging gesture. "Please, darling! My father put me up to it! He forced me to make the call! I didn't want to do it!"
May you like
"Did you believe that betraying me would secure your place at the head of this empire?" Alistair asked.
His voice dropped to a terrifying, gravelly whisper. It was a sound that had preceded the end of many men's lives. Selene stared up at his movie-star handsome face, realizing with absolute, horrifying clarity that there was no escape. The mafia boss had heard enough, and the consequences would be paid in blood.
