Chapter 7
"My father will not stand for this!" Cassandra cried, her ruby earrings swinging wildly. "He is a powerful man, Everett! He will bring the entire Vale syndicate down on your head! You cannot touch me!"
"Do you expect me to fear a corrupt politician more than I despise a monster standing in my home?" Everett asked, his dark eyes narrowing into cold, unforgiving slits.
He didn't wait for her to answer. He turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the four heavily armed guards stationed near the ballroom doors.
"Are you men going to secure this traitor, or must I break her legs myself before we walk downstairs?" Everett asked, his command absolute.
Two massive enforcers stepped forward instantly, moving with terrifying, synchronized efficiency. They grabbed Cassandra roughly by the arms, entirely ignoring the expensive fabric of her luxurious champagne satin gown.
"Get your hands off me!" Cassandra screamed as they dragged her backward toward the service corridor. "I am Cassandra Vale! I am going to be the lady of this house! Everett, call them off!"
"Take her to the holding cells in the sub-basement," Everett commanded, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "Ensure the temperature is dropped, and that she is stripped of all jewelry and communication devices."
"You are a dead man, Everett!" Cassandra wailed as they hauled her through the heavy doors. "You hear me? You are a dead man!"
"We will see," Everett murmured to the empty room.
The heavy service doors slammed shut, instantly cutting off Cassandra’s frantic, echoing screams. The grand ballroom was plunged back into a profound, ringing silence. The towering Christmas tree continued to sparkle with golden lights and crimson ornaments, a surreal, festive backdrop to the brutal mafia justice that had just been executed.
Everett stood perfectly still for a long moment, the adrenaline of the confrontation slowly ebbing from his system, leaving behind a profound, aching exhaustion. He had defended his son and protected the woman who was carrying his unborn child. But the political fallout with the Vale family would inevitably ignite a massive war in the coming days. Cassandra's father, a powerful underboss with deep ties to the eastern ports, would not let the imprisonment of his daughter go unanswered. Blood would inevitably spill on the snow before the new year.
Everett let out a slow, controlled breath. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, rolling his broad shoulders to release the coiled tension. A fierce, protective rage continued to burn in his chest. He needed to secure his son. He needed to ensure the estate was locked down before the Vale syndicate realized the engagement had been violently broken.
He turned and strode purposefully out of the grand ballroom, ascending the marble staircase two steps at a time. His polished shoes were silent on the thick carpet as he headed straight for his private quarters on the second floor.
He approached the heavy wooden door of the master suite. Two enforcers stood guard, their hands resting on their holstered weapons. They nodded respectfully as the boss approached.
"Is the perimeter secure?" Everett asked, his deep voice carrying a quiet urgency.
"Yes, Boss. No one has entered or exited the wing," the lead guard confirmed, stepping aside to open the heavy door for him.
Everett stepped into his private quarters. The room was bathed in the soft, warm glow of a roaring fireplace. Owen was sitting on the edge of the massive four-poster bed, having shed his forest-green reindeer sweater, looking small and fragile in his white undershirt. Sitting on the floor right beside him, speaking in a low, soothing voice, was Lila Bennett.
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The maid had removed her rumpled white apron, folding it neatly over her lap. Her black maternity dress was still creased, but her delicate features radiated a fierce, protective warmth. As Everett entered, Lila immediately stood up, smoothing her skirt, her expressive eyes darting to his face to read the outcome of the confrontation downstairs.
"Daddy!" Owen cried, jumping out of the bed and running across the room.
