Chapter 6
The warm golden light from the tall ivory candles cast flickering shadows across the fine porcelain plates at the head table. Elise stood frozen beside Nolan’s right shoulder, the heavy silver tray balanced in her hands. Her expressive eyes were locked onto the cell phone resting lightly in Vanessa’s manicured grip. The sheer, overwhelming panic that seized Elise’s heart made her breath catch painfully in her throat.
Vanessa Shaw sat in her sculpted satin gown, the very picture of aristocratic entitlement. Her fair, rosy skin glowed under the crystal chandeliers, and her diamond earrings flashed as she tilted her head. She held the phone casually, her thumb hovering over the illuminated screen. She wasn't looking at the phone; her eyes were fixed on Elise, burning with a malicious, triumphant cruelty.
"Dessert, Mr. Arden," Elise managed to whisper, her voice incredibly thin and fragile.
She leaned down, her elegant posture rigid with terror, and placed a beautiful, intricate dessert plate directly before the mafia boss.
As Elise’s hands withdrew from the polished walnut table, Vanessa made her move.
Without breaking eye contact with the devastated housemaid, Vanessa deliberately tapped the screen of the phone. Once. Twice. The bright, luminous colors of the screen shifted rapidly, navigating through the audio files.
Elise’s delicate cheekbones drained of all color. She knew exactly what menu the woman was in. The voicemails.
Vanessa’s thumb pressed down firmly on the digital delete icon. She held it there for a fraction of a second, ensuring Elise saw the exact moment the file was erased from existence. The final, loving words of Helen Hart, the only piece of comfort Elise had left in the world, were permanently wiped away.
With a smooth, unbothered motion, Vanessa finished deleting the saved message and placed Elise’s phone facedown on the polished walnut table, right beside Nolan’s crystal glass.
Elise stopped breathing. Her fingers, which had just released the fine porcelain plate, became completely still against the rim. She didn't pull her hands back. She couldn't move. The profound, shattering grief that hit her was a physical blow, paralyzing her entirely. The world around her narrowed to the facedown piece of plastic on the table. Her mother was truly gone now.
Vanessa picked up her own crystal stemware, taking a delicate sip of champagne. She looked up at the frozen housemaid, her voice dripping with a callous, sickening sweetness.
"I deleted it," Vanessa stated, her tone barely above a whisper, meant only for the girl to hear. "Keep serving."
The cruelty of the command hung in the bright, airy light of the dining room. Elise remained absolutely still, her fingers pressed against the dessert plate before the mafia boss, tears rapidly gathering along her lower eyelashes.
Nolan, whose cold, perceptive eyes never missed a single detail in his environment, had witnessed the entire interaction. He had seen the phone emerge from his fiancée's gown. He had seen the malicious intent in Vanessa's eyes. And he felt the sudden, agonizing tension radiating from the woman standing beside his right shoulder.
Nolan lowered his fork, his tailored dark suit shifting with the movement of his powerful shoulders. He immediately noticed Elise’s frozen, trembling fingers resting against his plate. He saw the sheer, unadulterated devastation radiating from her beautiful, softly oval face.
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The quiet mutual affection they shared demanded his attention. The mafia boss did not ignore the pain of the woman he cared for.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Nolan reached out. His refined, tattooed hand moved across the walnut table. He picked up the facedown cell phone, feeling the lingering warmth of the device.
