Chapter 6
Leander stood at the head of the table, holding the smartphone in his heavily tattooed hand. The weeping woman on the floor behind him was entirely irrelevant now; she was a discarded pawn in a much larger game. His cold, observant eyes swept over the assembled elite of his syndicate, calculating the damage control required.
"Marcus," Leander called out smoothly, his deep voice slicing through the heavy, suffocating silence of the dining room.
The massive, suited head of security stepped forward instantly from the shadows of the grand hallway. "Yes, Boss."
"Is Ms. Shaw’s vehicle ready?" Leander inquired, his tone chillingly calm.
"It can be at the front doors in sixty seconds, Boss," Marcus confirmed grimly.
"Will you ensure she is placed inside it immediately?" Leander asked, looking down at the device in his hand rather than the woman crying on the rug. "Will you ensure she leaves this estate with absolutely nothing but the clothes on her back?"
"Leander, no! Please!" Marielle screamed hysterically, scrambling on her hands and knees toward his polished leather shoes. "I love you! I was doing it for us! You can't just throw me out!"
Leander didn't even flinch. He simply stepped back, allowing her desperate hands to grasp empty air.
"Are my men deaf?" Leander asked the room at large.
Two bodyguards stationed near Marcus moved with terrifying, silent efficiency. They closed the distance in seconds, grabbing Marielle firmly by her upper arms. They hauled the screaming, sobbing woman backward out of the dining room, her heels dragging uselessly across the expensive carpet. The heavy doors slammed shut behind her, finalizing her absolute exile.
The engagement dinner had suddenly become a quiet, tension-filled wake.
Leander dropped the smartphone into the pocket of his dark three-piece suit. He turned his attention back to the woman and the child standing near the fireplace.
Adele hadn't moved an inch. She stood tall in her sophisticated black maid dress, her chest heaving slightly as she processed the extreme violence of the power dynamic she had just witnessed. She kept a protective hand on Caleb's shoulder.
"Adele," Leander said gently, the deep, rumbling timber of his voice shifting from lethal executioner back to a quiet, controlled warmth.
"Yes, Mr. Cole," Adele replied, her voice shaking only slightly.
"Will you take Caleb upstairs to his nursery?" Leander asked, his cold eyes softening for a fraction of a second as he looked at his son. "Will you ensure he understands that the recording was a lie?"
"Of course, sir," Adele murmured. She looked down at the six-year-old, offering him a small, reassuring smile.
"Caleb," Leander said softly, crouching down gracefully so he was at eye-level with the boy. "Am I your father?"
Caleb looked at the massive, dangerous man kneeling before him. The terror had faded from the boy's eyes, replaced by a profound, cautious relief.
"Yes, Daddy," Caleb whispered.
"Will you ever doubt that again?" Leander asked, gently squeezing the boy's small shoulder.
"No, Daddy."
"Good," Leander nodded, standing back up to his towering height. "Go with Adele."
Adele gently took Caleb’s hand and led the little boy quickly out of the dining room through the side service door.
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Once they were gone, Leander turned his attention to the silent, terrified guests who were still sitting frozen at the sprawling mahogany table.
"Are we finished eating?" Leander asked the room at large, taking his seat at the head of the table. "Because I believe we have a significant security breach to discuss regarding the origin of that recording."
