Chapter 7
Sabina fell silent, her chest heaving as the terrifying reality of Rowan’s reputation finally eclipsed her arrogant entitlement. He was not a businessman who could be bullied by supply lines; he was a ruthless, calculating apex predator. And she had just attacked the one thing he secretly cherished.
Rowan turned his back on his fiancée, dismissing her entirely. He walked the short distance back to where Tessa stood near the head of the banquet table. The beautiful maid was trembling, her fair, rosy skin pale from the adrenaline and the throbbing pain in her hand. The sophisticated white ruffled headband sat perfectly in her dark hair, a stark contrast to the violence of the evening.
Rowan stopped just inches away from her. He reached out with his right hand, the artistic tattoos on his fingers stark against the pristine white cuffs of her maid dress, and gently cradled her bandaged hand. His touch was incredibly light, reverent, and filled with a profound, unspoken affection.
“Does the pain radiate up your arm when you move your fingers, Tessa?” Rowan asked, his voice dropping to a soft, intimate murmur meant only for her.
Tessa looked up into his dark eyes, her breath catching in her throat. The walls she had built to protect her heart from the unattainable mafia boss were crumbling. “Only a little, sir. The doctor wrapped it tightly. I didn't want to ruin the dinner service.”
“Why would you endure such agony to protect the reputation of a woman who offered you absolutely no mercy?” Rowan asked, his thumb gently brushing the edge of her white apron.
“I wasn't protecting her,” Tessa whispered, her expressive eyes shining with unshed tears. “I was protecting your evening. I know how important this alliance is for you, Rowan. I didn't want to be the reason it fell apart.”
“Do you place so little value on your own well-being that you would bleed to secure my political alliances?” Rowan asked, his sharp jaw softening as he looked down at her delicate features.
Sabina, watching the deeply intimate exchange from the piano, let out a sound of pure, unadulterated disgust. The jealousy that had driven her to violence flared into a blinding, hysterical rage.
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“This is sickening!” Sabina spat, gripping the edge of the piano tightly. “You are treating her like she is your equal! You are throwing away an empire for a woman who cleans your toilets! Are you completely insane, Rowan?”
Rowan did not even turn his head to look at her. “Have you ever possessed a single fraction of the grace she carries in her shattered hand, Sabina?”
