Chapter 6
The interior of Roland’s armored Maybach was a silent, heavily fortified sanctuary against the chaos they had just left behind. The thick, bullet-resistant glass muffled the sounds of the city, and the ambient lighting provided a soft, warm glow that stood in stark contrast to the harsh, bright lights of the Hayes ballroom.
Emily sat in the back seat, holding a sleeping Olivia in her lap while Megan dozed against her side. The exhaustion and the trauma of the evening had finally claimed the two little girls. Emily stared blankly out the window, her hands still trembling slightly as she processed the magnitude of what had just occurred. Her marriage was over. A mob war was inevitable.
Roland sat in the plush leather seat opposite her, his heavy signet ring tapping rhythmically against the armrest. He watched his daughter with a profound, aching regret.
"How long, Emily?" Roland finally asked, his gravelly voice breaking the silence. "How long has it been like this?"
Emily kept her eyes fixed on the passing streetlights. "Since the day I moved in," she whispered, her voice hollow.
Roland closed his eyes, a deep, painful breath expanding his chest. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you pick up the phone and call me?"
"Because you arranged this marriage to stop a war, Dad," Emily replied, turning to look at him. Her fair skin was pale, highlighting the dark, exhausted circles under her eyes. "You told me Michael Hayes was a good earner. You told me it would solidify our territory. I thought... I thought if I just played the dutiful wife, it would eventually get better. I didn't want to disappoint you."
"You could never disappoint me, Emily," Roland said fiercely, leaning forward. "You are my only daughter. You are a Carter."
"But I was living in a house that hated me," Emily continued, tears finally spilling over her lashes. "When Megan was born, Jessica refused to come to the hospital because she wasn't a boy. Michael barely looked at her. When Olivia came, it got worse. They constantly made comments. They excluded them from family portraits. They told me I was useless because I couldn't provide a male heir to the Hayes bloodline."
"I will cut his heart out," Roland stated, the words spoken with absolute, terrifying sincerity.
"He controlled everything, Dad," Emily sobbed quietly, not wanting to wake the girls. "He took my credit cards. He monitored my phone calls. If I stepped out of line, he would grab me. He never hit my face because he knew people would see it, but he left bruises everywhere else. Tonight... tonight was just the first time he did it in public."
Roland stared at the faint, red handprint still visible on Emily’s arm. The guilt in his chest transmuted instantly into a cold, calculating, and absolute hatred for the Hayes family. He had traded his daughter for a piece of the city, and the men he traded her to had broken her.
"The truce is dead," Roland said, reaching over to gently wipe a tear from his daughter's cheek. "I am going to dismantle Michael Hayes piece by piece. And I will make sure his mother watches."
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"They have an army, Dad," Emily warned, fear creeping back into her voice. "They control the ports."
"They control what I allow them to control," Roland replied smoothly, a dark, dangerous smile touching his lips. "Rest now, Emily. By tomorrow morning, the Hayes family will realize they just declared war on a ghost."
