Chapter 4
The cinematic, golden light of the chandeliers seemed to sharpen and focus entirely on the tense struggle beside the towering Christmas tree. Megan backed away slightly, her chest heaving rapidly beneath the fitted black fabric of her dress.
Sienna pulled her hand out of the rumpled apron pocket with a sharp, dramatic flourish. In her palm lay a breathtaking, antique pearl-and-ruby brooch. It was a priceless family heirloom, a piece that had famously belonged to Gareth’s late mother.
Sienna’s free hand shot out, her manicured fingers gripping Megan’s forearm with agonizing, bruising force. She ensured the maid could not flee the scene of her supposed crime.
Sienna looked directly at Megan, her concerned public expression returning flawlessly for the benefit of anyone watching. She raised the brooch high enough for the nearby guests to see.
"Your mother's brooch," Sienna announced, her voice projecting clearly over the ambient noise of the reception. She turned her head slightly to address the approaching mafia boss. "In her pocket."
The words hit the room with the devastating force of a physical blow. The absolute, unvarnished accusation of theft spoken against a servant was a catastrophic verdict in this world.
A collective, quiet gasp rippled through the elite guests standing near the velvet sofas. The sheer audacity of a maid stealing from the late matriarch of the Whitmore family was an insult that carried an immediate, violent penalty.
Megan held perfectly still, her fingers tense against her rumpled apron. The color drained entirely from her fair, rosy face. She stared at the brooch, a suffocating wave of terror washing over her. She had absolutely no idea how the jewelry had gotten into her pocket, but she knew the woman standing in front of her was orchestrating her execution.
"I swear to you," Megan choked out, her voice barely a whisper. "I didn't take it."
"Thieves always swear their innocence," Sienna replied coldly, her grip tightening on Megan's forearm. "You have abused the kindness of this family for the last time. Security!"
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At that exact moment, Gareth Whitmore stepped perfectly into the medium wide space, his broad-shouldered, masculine frame casting a protective, terrifying shadow over the scene.
Three-year-old Penny, standing safely near the base of the Christmas tree, noticed the commotion. The toddler in the red velvet pinafore looked up at Sienna, her innocent, rosy face lighting up with a proud, delighted little smile. She completely ignored the towering, intimidating presence of the surrounding adults, thrilled that the secret game had reached its conclusion.
