Chapter 2
The moment the question left Rowan’s lips, a profound stillness crashed over the crowded room. Every single dinner guest stopped eating and speaking. The clinking of fine porcelain and crystal glasses ceased entirely as dozens of faces, all bearing fair, rosy skin and wide, apprehensive expressions, turned toward Rowan. The warm golden light illuminating the banquet seemed to suddenly freeze.
Sabina’s polished smile faltered for a fraction of a second. Her eyes darted toward Tessa’s bandaged hand, briefly avoiding the damning evidence of her own cruelty, before she forced her gaze back to Rowan. She effortlessly reconstructed her reassuring half-smile, her elegant satin gown shifting as she leaned forward to dismiss the tension.
“Just a kitchen accident, darling,” Sabina lied smoothly, her clear American accent projecting an air of absolute, unbothered innocence. After she spoke, she shot Tessa a brief, venomous warning glance, a silent promise of severe retribution if the maid dared to contradict her.
Rowan did not even look at his fiancée. His eyes remained locked on Tessa. The small artistic tattoo on his neck shifted as his jaw set. Slowly, with a restrained tenderness that contrasted sharply with his lethal reputation, Rowan offered his open, tattooed palm, holding it suspended just beneath Tessa’s bandaged hand.
Tessa trembled. She looked at Sabina’s furious eyes, then back to Rowan. The quiet, unspoken affection they shared gave her a sudden surge of courage. Her breathing grew uneven as she gently rested her bandaged hand against Rowan’s broad, warm palm. She looked directly into his eyes, her voice shaking but resolute.
“Because Finn called me Mommy,” Tessa answered.
A collective gasp echoed from the velvet dining chairs nearby. But before the shock could fully settle, little Finn looked directly at Sabina. The six-year-old boy lifted his small hand and pointed a finger toward Tessa’s wrapped fingers. He spoke quietly, but with the simple, devastating certainty that only a child possesses.
“You slammed the piano lid,” Finn said.
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Rowan briefly looked toward Tessa with a profound, restrained tenderness. Then, his eyes shifted toward Sabina, followed by a slow, deliberate turn of his head. His sharp jawline tightened, the muscles ticking beneath his neatly trimmed stubble. His stare became entirely cold and unwavering, locking onto the woman sitting across from him.
“Did you truly believe you could break her in my home and walk away without consequence, Sabina?” Rowan asked, the low resonance of his voice shaking the crystal on the table.
