Chapter 7
The cinematic light seemed to focus entirely on the beautiful, disheveled housemaid. Clara steadied a trembling, ragged breath. She slowly raised her head, maintaining unwavering eye contact with the man who commanded the city.
"Your brother Evan," Clara stated, her voice quiet but carrying a fierce, devastating conviction.
The admission was a knife to the chest of the entire syndicate. A collective, quiet gasp rippled through the elite guests standing near the velvet sofas. The sheer, audacious malice of marrying the boss's brother in secret while maintaining a public engagement was an act of treason that carried an immediate death sentence.
Clara didn't stop there. She ensured every single word reached the ears of the man who needed to hear it.
"I witnessed it," Clara finished, her voice entirely steady.
Adrian Cross stopped breathing. The muscles in his neck strained against his crisp white collar, highlighting the small neck tattoo. He realized in a fraction of a second that the woman he was supposed to marry had not only betrayed him with his own blood, but had used his innocent three-year-old son as a prop in her treasonous ceremony, and then terrorized his staff to cover her tracks.
He slowly turned his head, his naturally swept-back, slightly wavy hair catching the amber light of the chandeliers. He locked his cold, lethal gaze directly onto Serena.
Serena’s polished smile remained fixed on her face a moment too long, a terrifying display of sociopathic disconnect. She briefly glanced down at Finn, her eyes flashing with pure, unadulterated hatred for the toddler who had exposed her, before she returned her gaze to Adrian.
She realized instantly that her carefully constructed narrative of the benevolent future wife was entirely destroyed. The physical evidence of her extortion was in her hand, and the verbal testimony had been delivered by both a child and a witness in front of fifty mafia elite.
She met Adrian’s gaze as the smile finally hardened, stripping away the sweet facade and exposing the cruel, calculating monster beneath. She desperately tried to maintain her aristocratic, possessive arrogance, refusing to show fear to the man who could end her life with a single word.
"You were always the wallet," Serena stated, her American accent dripping with cold, unapologetic defiance.
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The sheer, brazen audacity of the confession echoed off the gilded mirrors. It was a callous admission of financial manipulation and profound betrayal, an arrogant attempt to assert dominance in a room that no longer belonged to her.
"Evan has the ambition," Serena continued, her voice rising slightly. "He knows how to take what he wants. You are just the bank that funds the empire. I chose the brother who is actually going to rule."
