Chapter 7
The bright, natural sunlight pouring into the suite offered no warmth to the Mercer family. The sheer terror radiating from Bianca was palpable. Her fair, rosy complexion had turned a sickly, ashen white. The heavy jewelry around her neck seemed to choke her as Lorenzo’s penetrating, movie-star gaze locked onto her trembling form.
"Bianca," Lorenzo said. His voice was a slow, hypnotic purr that promised absolute destruction. "I am waiting... for an answer."
"I... I don't know what you mean," Bianca stammered, her American accent cracking with panic. She took a step backward, her heels clicking against the floorboards until her back hit the wall. "We just wanted the baby! I can't have children! I wanted to be a mother!"
Lorenzo did not raise his voice. He did not yell. He simply took two slow, measured steps toward her, the polished leather of his shoes completely silent on the tile.
"A woman... who wishes to be a mother," Lorenzo murmured, stopping just a few feet away from her, "does not attempt to rip a newborn... from the arms of a woman... who just bled to give them life. A mother... protects."
He tilted his head slightly, his thick, neatly styled hair catching the bright light.
"You... are a broker," Lorenzo stated coldly, his eyes slicing through her lies. "You are holding an auction... with my flesh and blood."
"No!" Julian yelled from the armchair, struggling against the bodyguards who held him down. "Lorenzo, you're crazy! We wouldn't sell the baby! She's my sister!"
"Silence him," Lorenzo commanded without looking away from Bianca.
One of the bodyguards drove a heavy fist into Julian’s stomach. Julian doubled over, gagging and gasping for air, effectively silenced.
Sofia watched from her hospital bed, her heart pounding against her ribs. She clutched the edge of her gown, tears streaming down her fair face. "Dad... what is he talking about? Who would they give my baby to?"
"That... is exactly what Bianca... is going to tell us," Lorenzo said softly. He reached out and gently traced the edge of the heavy gold signet ring on his finger. "Because if she does not... I will have my men... throw her father... out of that window."
Victor, still recovering in the pile of luggage stands, let out a pathetic whimper. "Bianca! Tell him! Tell him everything!"
Bianca began to sob, heavy, ugly tears ruining her flawless makeup. "We didn't have a choice! Julian lost the company! He lost everything!"
Lorenzo remained perfectly still, his angular face an emotionless mask, waiting for the rest of the confession.
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"He owed money," Bianca wept, sliding down the wall until she was kneeling on the pristine floor. "So much money. To the Volkov syndicate. They threatened to kill him. They threatened to kill all of us. But they said... they said if we delivered one of your grandchildren to them... they would wipe the debt clean. They wanted leverage over you, Lorenzo! They wanted a hostage!"
The room went dead silent. The revelation that the Mercer family had intended to hand his newborn grandson over to his most ruthless Russian rivals hung in the bright, cinematic air like a death sentence.
