Chapter 9
The heavy walnut doors swung open, and four of Alden's heavily armed security operatives entered the bright, luminous dining gallery. They wore dark suits and grim expressions, their American accents entirely absent as they marched forward without a word. They grabbed Juliana by the arms, hauling her roughly to her feet. She shrieked, thrashing wildly against their iron grip, but they were unyielding.
"Will you remove the ring, Juliana, or must I have my men cut it from your hand?" Alden asked smoothly, his cold, perceptive eyes completely devoid of mercy.
Trembling violently, completely stripped of her power and her future, Juliana ripped the heavy diamond engagement ring from her finger. She threw it fiercely onto the polished walnut table. It struck a crystal wine glass with a sharp crack, spinning out of control before coming to rest near a flickering tall candle.
"You will regret this, Alden!" she screamed as they dragged her backward toward the doors. "You will all burn for this!"
"Will you convey my deepest regards to your father when I send him the pieces of his syndicate?" Alden asked quietly.
He did not answer her further screams. He watched in silence as the heavy oak doors slammed shut behind her, severing the alliance and guaranteeing a bloody mafia war. The room was finally quiet again, the only sound the gentle crackle of the ornate marble fireplace.
Alden stood alone near the head table for a long moment, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a slow, controlled breath. The betrayal was absolute, the upcoming syndicate war with Juliana’s father inevitable, but the immediate, toxic sickness within his home had been surgically removed.
He turned his body, his polished leather shoes pivoting seamlessly on the thick rug, and walked toward the two figures remaining by the open bookcase.
Mina was kneeling on the floor, holding Owen tightly in her arms. The sophisticated black maid dress contrasted sharply with the boy’s creased shirt. Owen had buried his face in the crook of Mina’s neck, his small body trembling from the shouting and the sudden violence of Juliana’s removal. Mina was gently stroking the child's hair, her softly squared face etched with deep, maternal relief.
Alden stopped beside them, his imposing, masculine frame casting a protective shadow over the housemaid and her son.
"Are you unharmed, Owen?" Alden asked, his deep voice softening significantly, losing its lethal, interrogative edge.
Owen turned his head, his fair, rosy cheeks stained with fresh tears. He looked at the towering mafia boss, his eyes searching for reassurance. "I'm okay, mister. Are you going to lock me back in the room?"
"Would I ever allow someone who hurts children to stay in my home, let alone repeat their crimes?" Alden asked, reaching out to gently cup the boy’s cheek.
Owen sniffled, leaning into the man's large, tattooed hand. "No."
"Are you a brave boy?" Alden asked, his thumb brushing away a tear.
"Yes," Owen nodded, his small chin trembling.
Alden shifted his gaze to Mina. The beautiful housemaid was watching him, her expressive brows drawn together in quiet empathy. She had risked her job, her safety, and her life by acting as a spy, all to keep her son alive against the fiancée of a mafia boss. The fierce maternal loyalty she had displayed was a rare, precious commodity in Alden's dark, violent world.
"Are you in pain, Mina?" Alden asked, his cold, perceptive eyes scanning her delicate features.
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"No, Mr. Kincaid," Mina answered softly, her elegant posture unwavering even as she knelt on the floor. "I am just... I am so sorry for what I did. I didn't want to spy on you."
"Do you believe I would fault a mother for moving heaven and earth to save her blood?" Alden asked, holding her gaze with an intensity that sent a sudden, warm flutter through Mina’s chest.
