Chapter 3
Valentina stared up at the movie-star handsome face of the mafia boss, her chest heaving beneath the sculpted plum silk. The warm golden light offered no sanctuary from the freezing intensity of his perceptive eyes. She had pushed too far, mistaking his usual quiet demeanor for compliance.
"Conrad, please," Valentina stammered, her tone shifting desperately from anger to pleading. "I wanted tonight to be perfect for us. We needed this alliance. You know my family’s syndicate controls the eastern ports. You need me."
"Do I look like a man who negotiates for things I already have the power to take?" Conrad asked.
He raised his right hand, the refined artistic tattoos flexing across his fingers as he gestured toward her left hand.
"Will you remove the ring, Valentina, or must I call my men to remove it for you?" Conrad asked.
Valentina gasped, her fair skin turning entirely translucent. "You can't do this. You are breaking the engagement? Over her?" She pointed a shaking, manicured finger at Nina.
"Do you think I would allow a woman devoid of empathy to raise my daughter?" Conrad asked, his gaze dropping briefly to Molly, who was still clinging to the housemaid.
"She is a three-year-old child!" Valentina wept, genuine panic setting in as the reality of her lost empire crashed down upon her. "She doesn't know anything! I would be a good mother to her!"
"Did you demonstrate that maternal instinct when you ignored her attempt to comfort a grieving woman?" Conrad asked.
He reached into his tailored dark suit jacket and withdrew a sleek, silver cell phone. He pressed a single button, raising it to his ear. The small neck tattoo shifted seamlessly with the movement.
"Are my security details stationed at the front doors?" Conrad asked into the phone. He paused, listening. "Will you come to the dining room and escort Miss Price to her vehicle?"
He lowered the phone and looked back at Valentina, whose tears were now freely falling, ruining her immaculate makeup.
"Conrad, my father will kill you for this," Valentina whispered, a venomous edge returning to her voice. "He will consider this an act of war."
"Has any man who declared war on me lived long enough to regret it?" Conrad asked.
The heavy walnut doors of the dining room swung open. Two massive security guards in dark suits entered, their expressions entirely blank. They flanked Valentina, waiting for the order.
"Will you ensure she takes nothing from this house that she did not bring into it?" Conrad asked his men.
Valentina ripped the heavy diamond engagement ring from her finger and threw it violently onto the white damask table. It struck a gold-rimmed porcelain plate with a sharp crack. She turned on her heel and marched toward the doors, the guards following closely behind.
Once the doors clicked shut, a profound silence settled over the bright, airy room. Conrad stood alone near the head table for a long moment, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a slow, controlled breath.
May you like
He turned his body, his polished shoes pivoting on the marble floor, and walked toward the serving console. Nina remained rooted to the spot, her delicate cheekbones pale, her eyes wide with overwhelming fear. She had just witnessed the destruction of a multi-million-dollar syndicate alliance, and she was the epicenter of the fallout.
"Are you afraid of me, Nina?" Conrad asked, stopping a few feet away from her.
