Chapter 3
The silence in the dining room was absolute, a suffocating vacuum that pressed against the eardrums of everyone present. The tall candles flickered, casting dancing shadows over the carved walnut tables, but no one dared to move. The bright, luminous colors of the room felt suddenly sharp and interrogative, pinning Mila under a spotlight of terrifying intensity.
Mila held Rowan’s gaze. The resemblance between them, though softened by her mother’s features, was suddenly undeniable in the close proximity. Her inner brows lifted slightly in a helpless, desperate expression. She swallowed hard, a visible, painful gulp in her throat, trying to force moisture into her mouth.
"My mother," Mila answered, her voice a small, careful whisper that trembled in the quiet room. "Evelyn."
The name hung in the air like a detonated explosive.
Rowan’s powerful shoulders tensed beneath his tailored suit. His perceptive eyes widened by a fraction of a millimeter—the equivalent of a scream for a man of his iron discipline.
Tears gathered rapidly along Mila's lower eyelids, making her beautiful eyes shine brilliantly under the cascading crystal chandeliers. Her gently dimpled chin quivered, and her lips trembled slightly, but she refused to look away. She kept looking at Rowan, visibly terrified of how he would react to the truth she had carried for months.
"She said you're my father," Mila finished, her voice breaking on the final word.
A collective, quiet gasp rippled through the elite guests.
Georgina’s composed, reassuring public mask shattered entirely. The panic she had harbored for months finally clawed its way to the surface. Before she could stop herself, before she could calculate the catastrophic consequences of her own words, she reacted.
"We agreed you'd stay silent!" Georgina snapped, her voice low but incredibly sharp, slicing through the tension like a blade.
The moment the words left Georgina's lips, the temperature in the room plummeted to absolute zero. She slapped a hand over her own mouth, her diamond engagement ring catching the light, but the damage was irreversible. She had not only confirmed Mila’s claim; she had confessed to knowing about it and actively concealing it from the most dangerous man in the city.
Rowan rose slowly from his champagne velvet chair. His towering, masculine frame uncoiled with a predatory grace. He positioned himself perfectly between the two women, a dark monolith in his three-piece suit.
He studied Mila’s tear-streaked face for a brief, agonizing moment, reading the twenty-six years of lost time in the slope of her cheeks and the expressive curve of her brows.
May you like
Then, his eyes slowly shifted toward Georgina, his head following slightly. His mouth settled into a firm, unforgiving line. He held his fiancée’s terrified gaze in complete, absolute silence. The cold, unwavering stare of the mafia boss promised nothing but sheer, unadulterated devastation. Georgina backed away a half-step, her satin gown rustling loudly in the deadly quiet of the room.
"Did you believe you could keep my own blood from me?" Rowan finally asked, his deep voice dropping to a gravelly, lethal whisper.
