Chapter 2
The golden warmth of the cascading crystal chandeliers suddenly felt suffocating, pressing down upon the thirty guests seated at the white damask tables. No one dared to touch their sparkling stemware. The silence stretched until the faint flickering of the tall ivory candles seemed to be the loudest sound in the magnificent room.
Conrad continued to stare at Valentina. The sculpted plum silk evening gown she wore seemed to lose its luster under the crushing weight of his cold, perceptive eyes. His jawline tightened, the extremely short stubble casting harsh shadows across his angular face.
"Do you believe a human life is worth less than a dinner service, Valentina?" Conrad asked.
His deep, low voice resonated through the carved walnut paneling. He did not raise his volume, but the absolute, freezing calm in his tone made the prominent politicians and syndicate lieutenants at the tables hold their breath.
Valentina’s fair, rosy skin paled dramatically. She gripped the edge of the table, her diamond engagement ring catching the light as her hand trembled. "Conrad, darling, it is our engagement party. We have governors and capos in this room. The staff knows their responsibilities. I simply asked her to fulfill her shift."
"Is forcing a grieving daughter to serve bread to my guests your definition of a simple request?" Conrad asked.
He slowly turned his broad shoulders, sweeping his gaze across the silent room. The guests sat rigidly in their cream velvet dining chairs, their American accents silenced by the sheer intimidation radiating from the head of the table.
"Have you all finished eating?" Conrad asked the room at large.
An older gentleman, a prominent judge seated near the center, hastily dabbed his mouth with a linen napkin. "Yes, Mr. Bellamy. The meal was wonderful. We should be going."
"Will you find your coats, or shall I have my men assist you in your departure?" Conrad asked.
The dismissal was absolute. Chairs scraped violently against the polished marble floors as the guests practically scrambled to their feet. There were no polite handshakes, no lingering farewells. They moved with a frantic urgency, eager to escape the blast radius of the mafia boss.
Within ninety seconds, the bright, luxurious room was empty of its audience, leaving only Conrad, Valentina, Nina, and little Molly.
Nina stood frozen beside the serving console, her slender figure trembling within her sophisticated black maid dress. She kept her eyes lowered, terrified of the consequences she had just brought upon herself. Molly reached out, wrapping her small arms around Nina’s legs, burying her face in the crisp white apron.
Valentina watched the doors close behind the last guest, her shock morphing into a furious, defensive indignation. She turned back to Conrad, her eyes blazing.
"Are you insane?" Valentina hissed. "You just threw the most powerful men in the state out of our home over a maid! My father will be furious! You are humiliating our family for the sake of the help!"
"Did you assume your father’s influence granted you the right to infect my home with cruelty?" Conrad asked.
He stepped away from the table, closing the distance between himself and his fiancée. The polished leather shoes made slow, deliberate sounds against the marble.
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"I am going to be your wife!" Valentina shrieked, her composure completely shattered. "I am going to run this household! She is a servant, Conrad! Her mother’s death does not stop the world from turning!"
"Does wearing my ring give you the delusion that you own my soul?" Conrad asked, stopping just inches from her.
