Chapter 7
The cinematic, golden light of the chandeliers caught the flawless perfection of Evelyn’s makeup. She did not flinch under the suffocating weight of Gabriel's silence. She was a survivor of the criminal underworld, a woman raised by ruthless men, and she knew that showing weakness was an invitation to slaughter.
Evelyn’s eyes briefly avoided Gabriel’s terrifying stare, flicking nervously toward the capos and donors who had witnessed the exchange. She saw the disgust and shock on their faces. She realized instantly that her carefully constructed, benevolent narrative was entirely destroyed.
The physical evidence was standing right in front of them, wearing a navy velvet jacket and a cream Christmas sweater. To deny it now would only make her look weak and pathetic. If she was going to burn, she was going to burn with the arrogant pride of a syndicate queen.
Evelyn took a slow, deliberate breath, steadying her trembling shoulders. She lifted her chin, meeting Gabriel’s gaze with an unyielding, cold pride. She stripped away the polished, sweet facade, exposing the cruel, calculating monster beneath.
A defensive, twisted smile hardened at the corners of her lips, a grotesque mask of aristocratic composure attempting to justify the unjustifiable.
"One heir," Evelyn stated, her American accent dripping with cold, unapologetic defiance.
The words echoed off the mirrored walls. It was a callous admission of human trafficking and psychological torture, an arrogant attempt to gaslight the room into believing her actions were simply the harsh, necessary realities of securing a mafia bloodline.
"Nobody needed the spare," Evelyn finished softly.
The sheer, brazen audacity of the confession sent a fresh wave of horror through the room. She had stolen a child from a vulnerable maid and handed him to the boss, treating human lives like disposable chess pieces to secure her own political standing within the Vale family.
Gabriel’s artistic tattoos flexed as his fists clenched at his sides. He did not yell. He did not reach for a weapon. His restraint was a masterclass in terror. The absolute stillness of his muscular, masculine frame promised catastrophic destruction.
"Did you believe that weaponizing the grief of a mother would secure your place at the top of this empire?" Gabriel inquired, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly register.
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"I secured an untainted heir for this family!" Evelyn snapped back, her voice losing its practiced elegance, pitching higher with defensive panic. "You wanted a son, Gabriel! I provided one without the complication of a filthy servant tying herself to your legacy! I did what was necessary to protect our mutual interests!"
"Does protecting our mutual interests require ripping an infant from his mother's arms?" Gabriel asked smoothly, his gaze fixed on her like a predator watching its prey.
