Taking a single spoonful, Benedict paused, his fingers going rigid around the silver as sudden recognition stilled his features

The sterile, concrete walls of the holding cell felt miles away from the gilded ceilings of the mansion above. Alessandra stared up at Benedict, the absolute certainty of her impending doom finally breaking through her aristocratic arrogance.

"It was just business, Benedict!" Alessandra shrieked, grasping at the hem of his tailored trousers. "The commission ordered the hit! Your brother was threatening to go to the feds! My father was just following orders! I didn't have anything to do with it, I was just a teenager!"

"Do you expect me to believe you were innocent when you actively paid to hide the only surviving heir to his bloodline?" Benedict asked, stepping back to avoid her touch as if she were diseased. "Did you not orchestrate the theft of a child to secure your own position as my wife?"

"I loved you!" Alessandra sobbed, real tears of panic finally spilling over her cheeks. "I wanted us to be a family! I couldn't let some bastard child ruin our future!"

"Is my niece a bastard, or is she the true heir to the Ashford empire?" Benedict asked, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that vibrated through the concrete.

He didn't wait for her to answer. He turned his broad shoulders, looking at Marcus, who was standing like a shadow just outside the cell door.

"Will you ensure she is transported to the council holding facility immediately?" Benedict asked quietly. "Shall we let the commission deal with the woman who nearly brought down the eastern seaboard over a lie?"

"With pleasure, Boss," Marcus growled, stepping into the cell and grabbing Alessandra roughly by the arms, hauling her to her feet.

"No! Benedict, please! They will kill me!" Alessandra screamed as Marcus dragged her toward the door. "You can't do this!"

"Do you truly believe you will find mercy among the wolves you fed?" Benedict asked, turning his back on her completely.

Alessandra’s panicked shrieks echoed down the long, concrete hallway until the heavy doors slammed shut, sealing her fate in the subterranean dark of the criminal underworld.

Benedict stood in the quiet cell for a long moment, the tension slowly bleeding out of his muscular frame. He took a deep breath, the exhaustion of the night finally showing in the lines of his angular face. He turned his head, looking at Cora, who was still standing near the wall, her hands trembling.

"Are you harmed by the truth, Cora?" Benedict asked gently, stepping closer to her.

"I... I always knew my father's death wasn't an accident," Cora whispered, looking up into his watchful eyes. "My mother always looked over her shoulder. She was terrified of the dark. Now I know why."

"Do you understand why I had to burn the alliance to the ground to keep you safe?" Benedict inquired, his tattooed hand gently cupping the side of her face. His thumb brushed lightly over her delicate cheekbone, wiping away a smear of dirt.

"You risked everything for me," Cora said, her voice cracking. "A housemaid you didn't even know."

"Did you think I would allow the daughter of my brother to serve drinks in my home?" Benedict asked, a flicker of profound, protective warmth entering his cold eyes. "Are you ready to leave this uniform behind?"

Cora looked down at her black maid dress, the white apron stained and ruined from the siege. She looked back up at the towering, terrifying man who was offering her a place in his dangerous, blood-soaked world.