Chapter 7
The click of the gold clutch snapping shut echoed like a gunshot in the silent room. It was a total, undeniable confession of guilt.
Alaric held the final silence for ten agonizing seconds. He let the reality of her treason wash over the fifty guests, ensuring every capo, every donor, and every family member understood exactly what had transpired.
"Silas," Alaric finally spoke, his voice completely devoid of emotion.
The senior capo stepped forward instantly from the crowd, his hand resting casually inside his tailored jacket, right over his weapon. "Yes, Boss."
"Escort my wife to the basement holding cells," Alaric ordered calmly. "Remove her jewelry. Take her phone. She is to speak to absolutely no one."
"You cannot do this to me!" Vivian screamed, her polished facade shattering completely into a hysterical panic. "My family will wage war on this house! You need the eastern supply lines! You need me!"
"I need nothing from a traitor," Alaric replied, turning his back on her. "Get her out of my sight."
Silas and two other heavily armed guards grabbed Vivian by the arms. She thrashed wildly, her emerald gown twisting as she kicked and screamed, but the men were immovable. They dragged her backward through the grand salon, hauling her out of the heavy mahogany doors and into the dark corridors of the estate.
The heavy doors slammed shut, plunging the reception back into a profound, ringing silence.
Alaric stood perfectly still for a moment, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a slow, controlled breath. The betrayal stung, not because of a broken heart, but because of the vulnerability it exposed in his fortress.
He slowly turned around to face Nora and his daughter.
Nora was kneeling on the marble floor now, holding Lucy tightly against her chest. The little girl was crying softly into the maid's rumpled white apron, frightened by the shouting and the sudden violence.
"Shh, it's okay, sweetie," Nora murmured, her delicate features pale as she stroked Lucy's soft curls. "The scary lady is gone. You are safe."
May you like
Alaric crouched down, his tailored three-piece suit shifting effortlessly over his muscular frame. He looked at the beautiful housemaid, his dark eyes studying the loose strands of hair framing her face and the slightly crooked white headband.
"Are you unharmed, Nora?" Alaric asked, his deep voice softening significantly, losing its lethal edge.
