Chapter 7
The heavy doors clicked shut, plunging the vast, luminous dining hall into a profound, ringing silence. The cascading crystal chandeliers continued to cast their warm golden light over the abandoned gold-rimmed porcelain and half-empty crystal wine glasses. The opulent space, designed for celebration, now felt like a gilded interrogation chamber.
Viviana backed away from the head table, her heels clicking unsteadily against the polished floor. She wrapped her arms around her waist, a defensive posture that crushed the sculpted satin of her expensive gown. Her diamond earrings shook as she wept, her carefully constructed facade entirely destroyed.
"Elliot, you cannot do this," Viviana sobbed, her chest heaving. "My family arranged this marriage! We are supposed to unite our syndicates! Are you going to throw all of that away because of a fake recording and a lying maid?"
Elliot stood immovably in his tailored dark three-piece suit. He slowly crouched down, bringing his handsome, angular face level with his son’s.
"Will you go upstairs with Cora now, Noah?" Elliot asked gently, his deep voice softening significantly to comfort the boy.
Noah sniffled, rubbing his nose with the back of his small hand. He looked at Cora, who gave him an encouraging, tearful nod, before looking back into his father's cold, but loving, eyes.
"Are you going to be mad at me, Daddy?" Noah asked, his voice trembling.
"Would I ever be angry with you for giving me back the truth?" Elliot asked, reaching out to gently cup his son’s cheek.
Noah shook his head, leaning into his father's large, tattooed hand.
"Will you take him to the secure wing, Cora?" Elliot asked, shifting his cold, perceptive eyes to the housemaid.
"Yes, Mr. Crowne," Cora answered softly, her elegant posture unwavering even as she held the boy. "I will not leave his side."
"Are you prepared to lock the doors and let absolutely no one in until I come for you?" Elliot asked, holding her gaze with an intensity that sent a sudden, warm flutter through Cora’s chest despite the terror of the situation.
"I am," Cora promised.
She turned and led Noah out of the luminous dining room through a discrete service door, her sophisticated black dress swishing softly.
Once the door clicked shut, Elliot rose slowly to his full height. He turned his broad, powerful shoulders toward his fiancée. The extremely short stubble on his jawline seemed to bristle with barely contained violence.
"Are you ready to tell me exactly how my wife died, Viviana, or must I extract the details from you?" Elliot asked, taking a slow, deliberate step toward her.
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"I love you, Elliot!" she wept, falling to her knees on the luxurious rug, the sculpted satin of her gown pooling around her. She clasped her hands together in a begging gesture. "Please, darling! My father forced me to do it! He said she was making you weak! He wanted a true alliance through our bloodline! I didn't want to pull the trigger!"
"Did you believe that murdering the mother of my child would secure your place at the head of this empire?" Elliot asked, his voice dropping to a terrifying, gravelly whisper.
