The housemaid Lena Grant gently opened her arms as three-year-old Theo approached

The silence in the music salon stretched until it felt like a physical weight pressing against the guests' chests. Nobody dared to breathe. Emmett’s hand remained firmly anchored on Lena’s shoulder, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin black fabric of her uniform. The artistic tattoos on his fingers stood out starkly against her white collar.

Natalie’s confident posture faltered for a fraction of a second, her burgundy satin gown rustling as she shifted her weight. She let out a sharp, forced laugh that sounded like breaking glass.

"Emmett, darling, you are making a scene over nothing," Natalie said, attempting to close the distance between them. She reached out to touch his arm. "The girl is dramatic. She bumped into a doorframe last week and blamed it on me. You know how these people lie to get attention."

Emmett did not move, but his voice was a low, guttural rumble that stopped Natalie dead in her tracks.

"Do not touch me."

Natalie’s hand hovered in the air before slowly dropping back to her side. The diamond earrings caught the light as she trembled with sudden, unrestrained fury.

"You are going to take the side of the help?" Natalie hissed, dropping the facade. "Over me? Over the Voss family? My father is in the adjoining room, Emmett. Do not humiliate me in front of our guests."

"You humiliated yourself," Emmett replied, his tone glacial. "You laid hands on her. You terrorized my son while I was away. You thought because I was out of the city, my house became yours to rule with violence against those who cannot fight back."

"She is a maid!" Natalie shrieked, no longer caring who heard her. "She is nothing! And that boy calls her his mother! I am to be your wife, Emmett. I am the lady of this syndicate. I will not have some pathetic, disheveled servant usurping my place in the eyes of a bastard child!"

Lena flinched at the venom in Natalie's words, her grip on Theo's small fingers tightening. Theo whimpered, hiding his face against Lena's rumpled apron.

Emmett’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered beneath his short stubble. He finally broke his stare with Natalie and turned to the crowd of onlookers, his voice booming with absolute authority.

"The reception is over. Everyone, get out. Now."

The guests didn't need to be told twice. The elite members of the underworld scrambled toward the grand double doors, leaving their champagne flutes on the velvet sofas and marble tables. Within two minutes, the luxurious music salon was completely empty, save for Emmett, Lena, Theo, and a seething Natalie.

"You are making a grave mistake, Emmett," Natalie warned, her voice shaking with rage. "My father will view this as an act of war."

"Let him," Emmett said smoothly. He looked down at Lena, his gaze softening just a fraction. "Take Theo to my private study. Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone but me."

"Yes, Mr. Crowne," Lena whispered. She scooped Theo into her arms, the toddler clinging tightly to her neck. She didn't look back as she hurried out of the music salon, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.