Chapter 7
The gesture was profound and Earth-shattering within the rigid hierarchy of the mafia syndicate. To offer a servant the seat of honor directly beside the boss was an unprecedented elevation. It was a public declaration of absolute protection, shielding Molly entirely from the wrath of the Vane family.
Molly stood frozen, her puffy, tear-stained eyes wide with sheer disbelief. She looked at the plush velvet chair, then up at Julian’s cold, handsome face. She was trembling so violently that she felt her knees threatening to buckle beneath the weight of her exhaustion.
Before she could speak, six-year-old Ben stepped forward in his festive green sweater. The little boy, completely unfazed by the terrifying aura of his father, walked up to Molly. With absolute, innocent trust, Ben reached out and gently took Molly’s shaking hand in his own.
He tugged her softly toward the table.
Molly allowed herself to be led. She stepped forward, her flat shoes gliding over the polished marble floor. She reached the velvet dining chair. Slowly, hesitantly, she rested her trembling fingertips on the carved walnut chair back.
Julian remained standing perfectly still. He positioned his tall, muscular frame squarely between Scarlett and Molly, creating an impenetrable physical shield of masculine authority. He kept his body angled to ensure Molly was completely protected while he watched Scarlett in unwavering, deadly silence.
Scarlett stared at the housemaid touching the velvet chair, her chest heaving violently beneath her satin gown. The silence stretched, tight and unforgiving. The fifty guests held their collective breath, waiting for the executioner's blow.
"Julian, darling, please," Scarlett gasped, her American accent pitching high and breathless with panic. "You cannot be serious. You are humiliating me in front of our families! You are elevating a filthy servant to the table over a bowl of dog food!"
"Are you struggling to comprehend the consequences of turning my home into a torture chamber, Scarlett?" Julian asked.
His deep, controlled voice remained completely level. The measured pause between his words was a calculated instrument of psychological warfare.
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"She was insubordinate!" Scarlett shrieked, tears of sheer desperation welling in her eyes. She pointed a shaking, diamond-adorned finger at Molly, though she shrank back under Julian's lethal glare. "She allowed your son to call her mother! I merely needed to assert the proper hierarchy of this household while you were away!"
"Does asserting hierarchy require starving a woman until she eats from the floor?" Julian inquired, his perceptive eyes narrowing into cold slits.
