Chapter 2
The sudden, awkward halt in movement near the fireplace drew the attention of the surrounding capos, though none dared to stare directly at the boss. Everett Marlowe remained perfectly still, his powerful frame a monument of lethal control. He studied the small packed bag at Bree’s feet, his mind rapidly processing the anomaly in his meticulously ordered house.
Annelise noticed the shift in his attention. She maintained her polished posture, the sculpted velvet of her gown catching the golden chandelier light. She looked directly into Everett’s cold, observant eyes, offering a light, reassuring smile that failed to reach the calculating depths of her own gaze.
"He’ll forget her by morning," Annelise said.
Her voice was bright and airy, completely dismissing the profound bond between the maid and the motherless child. Her smile stayed perfectly pinned to her lips while her eyes briefly darted down, checking the little hand that was still stubbornly gripping Bree’s white cuff.
Bree didn't move. She couldn't. The weight of the mafia boss's gaze was suffocating. She knew the power Annelise wielded as the future mistress of the house, and she knew the consequences of defiance.
Everett didn't respond to Annelise. His eyes shifted slowly from the packed bag back up to the housemaid. He met Bree’s eyes directly.
"Bree?" Everett asked, his deep, low voice rolling over the ambient noise of the party. "Why are you leaving?"
His delivery was quiet and deliberate, the measured pause after her name commanding absolute attention. The effect was instantaneous. Every single guest at the sprawling white damask tables stopped eating. Conversations died mid-sentence. Forks were lowered slowly to gold-rimmed porcelain plates. Fifty pairs of eyes turned silently toward the fireplace, recognizing the catastrophic shift in the atmosphere. A direct question from Everett Marlowe during a formal engagement dinner was an absolute law.
He waited without interrupting her hesitation. He simply stared at her, offering no comfort and no warning, his angular face a mask of terrifying composure.
Bree swallowed hard, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She felt Annelise’s murderous glare boring into the side of her head. If she spoke the truth, she was declaring war against the future wife of a Mafia boss. If she lied, she was abandoning the child she loved more than life itself.
Bree held Everett’s intense, terrifying gaze. Her expressive inner brows lifted slightly in a gesture of profound, helpless sadness. Moisture gathered rapidly along her lower eyelids, catching the warm, elegant light of the room.
"He called me Mama," Bree whispered.
May you like
Her voice was soft and strained, cracking under the immense emotional weight of the admission. It cut through the silent room like a razor blade. After speaking, she pressed her lips tightly together, struggling desperately to keep her composure as a single tear threatened to spill over her dark lashes.
The revelation dropped like a live grenade into the center of the luxurious interior. The air in the room seemed to shatter. Capos who had spent their lives dealing in extreme violence stiffened in their ivory upholstered chairs. The sheer, breathtaking cruelty of dismissing a woman for being loved by a motherless child was an act of profound, sociopathic vanity that even hardened criminals found repulsive.
