Chapter 5
The crackling of the carved marble fireplace seemed deafening in the vast, empty dining room. Valentina’s face, previously flushed with wine and the triumph of the evening, drained of all color until her rosy skin turned the shade of ash. She clutched the fabric of her sculpted burgundy gown, her hands trembling violently.
"I didn't mean to kill him!" Valentina shrieked, her voice shrill and desperate, bouncing off the ivory wall panels. "I just wanted him to get sick! I wanted you to see how fragile he is! I wanted you to realize you need a strong woman beside you, not a sickly child pulling you down!"
Julian did not break eye contact with her. He slowly raised his tattooed hand, resting his knuckles on the polished walnut table. The silence stretched until it became agonizing.
"Do you think my intellect is as fragile as your lies?" Julian asked. His measured pauses carried the weight of a death sentence. "Did you not personally supervise the baking of this cake?"
Valentina stepped backward, her heel catching on the edge of an abandoned velvet chair. "The bakers made a mistake! You are letting a traumatized child dictate the truth! He’s confused! The grief has driven him mad, Julian!"
Lydia stood her ground, though her knees felt weak. She kept her hands gently resting on Owen's small shoulders, providing a solid anchor for the terrified boy. She refused to defend herself against the hysterical accusations Valentina had thrown earlier. The truth was already sitting on the plate; it didn't need her protection.
"Do you believe a child forgets the face of the monster who promised him his dead mother?" Julian inquired, stepping slowly around the edge of the table, his broad shoulders dominating the space. "Is burying a son the only way you could secure a ring?"
"It wasn't like that!" Valentina shrieked, losing her elegant manners entirely. "I am strong enough to stand beside a king! I did it for us!"
The confession tumbled from her lips in a rush of panicked adrenaline. She clamped her hands over her mouth the second the words escaped, realizing she had just admitted to the attempted murder of the mafia boss's son.
"Did you think I would crown a woman whose hands are stained with the blood of my family?" Julian asked, taking another slow, deliberate step toward her.
"You need me!" Valentina sobbed, real tears of panic finally spilling over her cheeks as she backed away. "My family brings you the northern distribution lines! We built an empire together! If you touch me, my father will start a war that will burn this city to the ground!"
"Do you think the threat of a war frightens me more than a traitor sleeping in my bed?" Julian asked, tilting his head slightly, the cold, perceptive eyes narrowing into dark, lethal slits.
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He didn't wait for her to process the absolute lack of mercy in his gaze. He reached into the inner pocket of his tailored dark suit, his refined artistic tattoos catching the golden light, and withdrew a heavy, encrypted mobile phone.
"Are you waiting in the grand foyer, Marcus?" Julian asked into the receiver.
