Chapter 3
The scraping of champagne velvet chairs against the polished marble floor sounded like rolling thunder in the tense atmosphere. The guests did not speak, offer condolences, or say goodbye. They moved with quiet, terrified urgency, filing out of the dining room beneath the cascading crystal chandeliers. Within two minutes, the grand hall was entirely empty, save for Evander, Marceline, Daisy, and four heavily armed guards who had silently materialized from the hallway shadows.
Daisy stood completely still, clutching the microphone. She felt entirely out of place in her black maid dress and white apron, caught squarely in the crossfire of a mafia empire’s sudden collapse. She desperately wanted to slip away, to fade into the ivory-paneled walls, but Evander’s immense presence anchored her firmly in place.
Marceline paced near the head of the table, her sculpted garnet gown shimmering in the candlelight. "Evander, you have to let me explain. Graham is a mercenary. He approached me three months ago. He had proof that Leo was still alive. I didn’t know what to do!"
"If he approached you three months ago, why am I only hearing about this tonight, through a bug planted in my own dining room?" Evander asked. He remained perfectly still, a terrifying statue of tailored dark wool and suppressed, violent rage.
"Because they were watching me!" Marceline shouted, tears spilling over her delicate cheekbones. "If I went to you, they would have known. They wanted your shipment schedules. They traded Leo’s safety for information. I was trying to buy time!"
Evander slowly looked away from his fiancée and turned to the housemaid. "Daisy, may I have the device?"
"Yes, sir," Daisy whispered, carefully stepping forward to place the small black square into his palm. Her fingers lightly brushed his; his skin was ice cold, belying the fire that surely burned within him.
Evander brought the microphone closer to his face. He stared directly at Marceline as he pressed the transmission button with his thumb. "Graham, are you still listening?"
The line crackled with heavy static for a long, agonizing moment. Then, Graham’s voice returned, laced with sudden, unmistakable panic. "Cole? Put Marceline back on."
"Why would I let a traitor speak on my frequency?" Evander asked calmly.
Marceline flinched violently, as if she had been physically struck. "Evander, don't! He’ll kill Leo!"
"Will you kill my son, Graham?" Evander asked into the microphone, his deep voice carrying a terrifying, oceanic serenity.
"You don't have any leverage here, Cole," Graham stammered, frantically trying to regain his professional composure. "We have the boy. You have a compromised fiancé. Back off your men from the southern docks tonight, or we send the kid to the bottom of the bay for real this time."
"Do you believe you are the first man to attempt to extort me, Graham?" Evander asked. He slowly walked toward Marceline, his polished leather shoes clicking rhythmically against the marble floor.
"I'm the only one holding your blood!" Graham shot back over the speaker.
Evander stopped directly in front of Marceline. She looked up at him, her chest heaving with panicked breaths. The diamond engagement ring on her finger caught the golden glow of the tall ivory candles.
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"Marceline, did you think I would forgive you for keeping my son in a cage while you wore my ring?" Evander asked softly.
Marceline burst into loud, jagged sobs, her knees buckling as she collapsed onto the marble floor.
