Chapter 6
The cascading crystal chandeliers continued to bathe the room in their bright, airy light, but the engagement dinner had fundamentally shattered. The guests remained paralyzed in their velvet dining chairs, watching the confrontation unfold with breathless terror. They were seasoned politicians and syndicate lieutenants, but none of them dared to intervene in a dispute of this magnitude.
Viviana stared up at Elliot, her fair, rosy skin drained of all color, leaving her looking sickly and translucent. She gripped the fabric of her sculpted champagne silk gown, her hands shaking violently.
"Elliot, darling, please," Viviana finally gasped, her American accent pitching high and breathless with panic. "It’s a fake! That isn't her voice! The maid manufactured it to ruin our evening! She wants to take my place!"
"Does a manufactured recording carry the exact cadence of a woman I slept beside for ten years?" Elliot inquired, his perceptive eyes narrowing into cold slits.
"She is lying!" Viviana cried, tears of sheer desperation welling in her eyes. She pointed a shaking, diamond-adorned finger at the housemaid. "She has been trying to poison you against me since the day I moved in! You cannot believe a servant over your future wife!"
Cora held her ground, her elegant posture unwavering despite the terror hammering in her chest. She instinctively wrapped her arms around Noah, pulling the crying boy securely against her black maid dress, shielding him from the socialite's venomous panic.
"Would my son cling to this toy if he did not know it held the last breath of his mother?" Elliot asked, his voice echoing coldly off the ivory-paneled walls.
"He is confused!" Viviana shrieked, looking frantically around the room at the seated guests, silently begging someone—anyone—to intervene. But the elite crowd sat immobilized, their fair faces pale with shock, utterly unwilling to cross the mafia boss.
Elliot slowly swept his gaze across the room, taking in the numerous guests sitting frozen at their polished walnut tables.
"Have you all finished your meals?" Elliot asked the room at large.
It was phrased as a question, but the command hidden within it was unmistakable and absolute. Chairs scraped violently against the polished hardwood and marble floors as the guests practically scrambled to their feet. There were no polite farewells, no lingering handshakes. Men in tailored suits and women in evening gowns fled the bright, elegant room with frantic urgency, eager to escape the blast radius of Elliot Crowne’s wrath.
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Within ninety seconds, the expansive dining hall was completely empty, save for Elliot, Viviana, Cora, and Noah. The heavy mahogany doors slammed shut, sealing the room and locking Viviana inside with her greatest nightmare.
"Did you think I would never find out what you did to her?" Elliot asked, turning his terrifying focus entirely back to the woman in the satin gown.
