Chapter 4
The sudden, violent clatter of the heavy silver ice bucket across the cream marble floor acted like a gunshot in the opulent ballroom. The dozens of guests surrounding the crowded banquet tables lowered their champagne glasses in unison, their mouths falling open as they stared at the unbelievable scene. A housemaid had just assaulted the family matriarch in the middle of a wedding banquet.
Soren stood perfectly still, his arms finally free from the bodyguards' grip. He rolled his broad shoulders beneath his tailored suit, feeling the blood rush back into his extremities. He did not look at the gasping woman in the upholstered chair, nor did he look at the guards who were currently distracted.
Verity immediately turned her back on the chaos she had just caused. She returned directly to Soren’s side, her fair skin pale, her chest heaving against her fitted black uniform. She carefully placed the folded photograph directly into his large, tattooed hand.
"Are you unharmed, Verity?" Soren asked, his deep voice carrying a strange, eerie calmness amidst the rising panic of the room. "Do you realize the penalty for striking a member of this family?"
Verity didn't answer. Her hands were shaking violently, but she reached up toward his collar. With gentle, meticulous care, she straightened the lapels of his dark three-piece suit and smoothed the collar that the bodyguards had twisted. Her expressive eyes searched his face, checking the reddened skin on his cheek, treating him not as a terrifying mafia boss, but as a man who had just been shattered and rebuilt in the span of a minute.
Soren looked down at the photograph resting in his palm. The image of his wife and daughter—the family he had spent six agonizing months believing had forsaken him—burned into his retinas. The hollow, empty ache in his chest was instantly replaced by a cold, all-consuming fury.
"How long have you carried this burden for me?" Soren asked quietly, looking from the glossy paper to Verity's worried face. "Why didn't you bring this to me sooner?"
"I only found it an hour ago in her private safe, sir," Verity whispered rapidly, her voice trembling. "I came as fast as I could."
Soren absorbed the information. He kept Verity close beside him, stepping slightly in front of her to shield her delicate frame from the room. He slowly turned his attention back to Cressida. The older woman was wheezing, clutching her chest as the two bodyguards hovered over her.
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"Cressida," Soren said. His voice was quiet, yet it carried a dangerous, lethal edge that made the nearest guests physically step backward.
"Where have you kept them?" Soren asked.
