Chapter 7
"Your daughter's lying," Sienna stated, her American accent dripping with cold, unapologetic defiance. "Just like her."
The sheer, brazen audacity of the accusation echoed off the gilded mirrors. It was a callous admission of absolute sociopathy, an arrogant attempt to gaslight the room into believing that a three-year-old child had orchestrated a jewelry heist alongside a maid.
The words hung in the bright, golden air, a staggering confirmation of profound insecurity and malice. To call the boss's daughter a liar to his face in front of the entire syndicate was a level of instability that threatened the entire foundation of the mafia empire.
Gareth’s reaction was deliberate, fueled by a cold, terrifying, protective adrenaline. He did not yell. He did not reach for a weapon. His restraint was a masterclass in terror.
He moved with absolute, predatory precision. He reached out with his tattooed hand, the heavy family signet ring gleaming under the chandelier light.
He took the pearl-and-ruby brooch directly from Sienna’s open palm. He did it slowly, deliberately, stripping her of the physical evidence she had tried to weaponize against his staff.
Gareth then turned slightly toward Megan. He raised his hand and rested a warm, reassuring hand firmly on the housemaid's trembling shoulder.
The physical touch was a public declaration. It was an absolute, undeniable claim of protection over the maid.
Three-year-old Penny, sensing the shift in the power dynamic, stayed close beside Megan. The toddler in the red velvet pinafore reached up and slipped her small hand directly into Megan’s hand, entirely trusting the woman in the black dress to keep her safe.
Megan did not retreat. Feeling the solid, unyielding presence of Gareth standing protectively beside her, and the warm grip of the child's hand, the paralyzing terror that had gripped her finally broke. Her rigid, tense shoulders eased slightly.
Gareth remained standing perfectly still. He placed his broad-shouldered, masculine frame entirely between Sienna and Megan, creating an impenetrable physical shield of authority.
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He held the priceless brooch in clear view, resting against his dark suit jacket. He fixed Sienna with a cold, unwavering stare that promised absolute, undeniable destruction. His silence was infinitely more dangerous than a scream.
"You used my daughter as a pawn to execute your petty jealousies," Gareth stated, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that shook the crystal glasses on the nearby tables.
