Chapter 1
The engagement banquet inside Dominic Vale’s sprawling mansion was a vision of bright, airy, and luminous elegance. Cascading crystal chandeliers hung from the soaring ceilings, casting a soft, elegant warmth across the gilded ceiling moldings and ivory-paneled walls. There was no muddy orange tint or heavy yellow cast in the room; instead, clear lighting and gentle golden highlights illuminated the space perfectly, revealing clean whites and the natural, rosy skin tones of the gathered elite. A massive marble fireplace crackled gently, adding to the opulent atmosphere. Surrounding the polished walnut dining tables were plush champagne velvet chairs. Tall ivory candles glowed in ornate silver candelabras, nestled beautifully among sprawling centerpieces of pristine white roses, fine porcelain, and glittering crystal stemware.
At the head table sat Dominic Vale, a mafia boss who looked more like a film star. Masculine and broad-shouldered, he wore a flawlessly tailored dark three-piece suit. His angular face, high-bridged nose, and sharply defined jaw were framed by extremely short, neatly trimmed stubble and thick, slightly wavy hair swept back from his forehead. Artistic tattoos decorated his hands and fingers with generous spacing, and a small neck tattoo peeked above his crisp collar.
To his left sat Selene Hart, his fiancée. She wore a sculpted satin gown that hugged her figure, accessorized with dazzling diamond earrings and a heavy engagement ring. Standing to Dominic’s right was Elara Brooks, a housemaid of delicate, breathtaking beauty. Her softly oval face, expressive eyes, and graceful posture were complemented by her hair gathered into a loose, low bun. She wore a sophisticated black maid dress with a cinched waist, a short A-line skirt, a white apron, and a white ruffled maid headband.
The continuous hum of polite conversation filled the room, but the tension at the head table was suffocating. Elara reached forward, her fair, rosy hands trembling slightly as she placed the final water glass from a small serving tray onto the polished walnut wood.
Without missing a beat, Selene reached into her lap and pulled out a soft, folded baby blanket. She tossed it casually onto Elara’s empty serving tray.
“No more nursery breaks,” Selene said, her voice dripping with venomous finality, though her smile remained perfectly pleasant for the guests.
Elara’s fingers stopped instantly against the tray’s rim. The color drained from her fair skin. Dominic, catching the sudden, horrifying shift in Elara’s expressive eyes, turned his head. He looked directly at the beautiful housemaid, his deep, measured voice slicing through the ambient noise of the banquet. Every single guest stopped eating and speaking, turning toward the head table in dead silence.
“Elara, where is your baby?” Dominic asked quietly, his eyes searching her terrified face.
Selene did not hesitate. She met Dominic’s eyes with a faint, reassuring smile, answering as though they were discussing the most ordinary household arrangement in the world. “An orphanage. Better for everyone.”
Elara’s breath hitched. She set the tray onto the table and frantically gathered Ivy’s soft blanket against her waist. She met Dominic’s intense gaze, her rosy lips trembling uncontrollably. Dominic rose slowly to his feet beside her, his towering frame casting a shadow.
“Ivy is our daughter,” Elara whispered, the tears finally spilling over.
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Selene’s smile vanished instantly. She looked directly at Dominic, her posture rigid with restrained defensiveness. “A maid can’t raise your heir.”
Dominic briefly looked at Elara with quiet, profound tenderness. Slowly, he turned his head toward Selene. His jaw tightened slightly; his gaze became entirely cold and unwavering.
