Chapter 2
The silence in the grand dining room was a physical weight, pressing down on the chests of the elite guests who dared not draw a breath. The golden light from the tiered crystal chandeliers suddenly felt harsh and exposing. Cordelia’s face, previously flushed with wine and the triumph of the evening, drained of all color until her fair skin turned the shade of ash. Her diamond earrings trembled as a subtle, uncontrollable shake took over her body.
Alaric did not break eye contact with her. The absolute stillness of his broad shoulders was far more terrifying than any outburst of rage. He slowly raised his tattooed hand, gesturing toward the heavy mahogany doors.
"Are all of you waiting for a formal invitation to leave my home?" Alaric asked, his deep, low voice echoing across the long walnut table.
The question was a direct command. Instantly, the scraping of velvet dining chairs against the hardwood floor sounded like thunder. Capos, crime bosses, and politicians scrambled to their feet, abandoning their fine porcelain plates and crystal stemware. They moved with a hurried, terrified silence, practically sprinting toward the grand double doors of the dining room. No one offered their goodbyes or dared to look back.
Within two minutes, the massive, luxurious room was entirely empty, save for the four of them: Alaric, Cordelia, Eliza, and young Seth. The heavy doors clicked shut, echoing with a hollow, terrifying finality.
"Alaric, darling, please," Cordelia stammered, the faint, indulgent smile completely evaporating from her face. She reached out across the table, her engagement ring flashing in the candlelight. "The boy is lying! The maid is manipulating him! She probably locked him in there herself! She hates me! She’s been trying to ruin this engagement since the day I moved in!"
Alaric slowly lowered his hand from the table. He tightened his protective stance, ensuring Eliza and Seth were completely shielded behind his dark tailored suit.
"Do you take me for a fool, Cordelia?" Alaric asked, his cold, perceptive eyes narrowing into dark, lethal slits.
"I was doing it for you!" Cordelia cried, her voice pitching an octave higher as her panic fully set in. "You demand perfection in this house! He is weak, Alaric! He cries all the time over his dead mother! He is holding you back from projecting strength to the commission! You needed a fresh start!"
Eliza stood her ground, though her knees felt weak. She kept her hands gently resting on Seth's shivering shoulders, providing a solid anchor for the terrified boy. She refused to defend herself against the hysterical accusations Cordelia had thrown. The truth was wrapped in a tablecloth; it didn't need her protection.
"Is freezing my son to death your definition of projecting strength?" Alaric inquired, taking a slow, deliberate step around the edge of the table.
"It wasn't like that!" Cordelia shrieked, losing her aristocratic composure entirely. "I just wanted him to calm down! I was going to let him out! I am strong enough to stand beside a king! I did it for us!"
"Did you think I would crown a woman whose hands are stained with the abuse of my blood?" Alaric asked, taking another slow, deliberate step toward her.
"You need me!" Cordelia sobbed, real tears of panic finally spilling over her rosy cheeks as she backed away, her satin gown catching on a velvet chair. "My family controls the western distribution lines! We built an empire together! If you touch me, my father will start a war that will burn this city to the ground!"
"Do you think the threat of a war frightens me more than a traitor sleeping in my bed?" Alaric asked, tilting his head slightly.
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He didn't wait for her to process the absolute lack of mercy in his gaze. He reached into the inner pocket of his tailored dark three-piece suit, his refined hand tattoos catching the golden light, and withdrew a heavy, encrypted mobile phone.
"Are you waiting in the grand foyer, Marcus?" Alaric asked into the receiver, his voice devoid of all warmth. "Will you bring two men into the dining room immediately?"
