Chapter 6
Seeing the murderous intent in her son's eyes, a primal, irrational panic seized Victoria. Her mind, accustomed to absolute control for the past six months, short-circuited. Instead of backing away or begging for forgiveness, her twisted sense of authority flared up in a desperate bid to reassert dominance. She convinced herself that if she could just separate the child from him, she could regain control of the narrative, just as she always had.
"She shouldn't be in here!" Victoria shrieked, her voice cracking as she lunged forward.
Before anyone could react, Victoria suddenly reached out and clamped her ring-clad hand violently around Sophia’s tiny wrist. Her long, manicured nails dug into the little girl's fragile, fair skin.
Sophia screamed in pain and terror, her small body violently flinching away. "Daddy, no! Don't let her take me!" she cried, burying her face deeper into Alexander's neck, her other hand gripping his suit jacket with desperate strength.
"Let her go, Victoria," Alexander warned, his voice a deadly, quiet hiss.
"She needs to be bathed and put in the cellar where she belongs!" Victoria yelled frantically, pulling hard on the child's arm, her diamond rings scraping against Sophia's wrist. She looked wildly at the surrounding bodyguards, expecting them to assist her out of habit. "Don't just stand there! Help me get the child out of this room before she ruins the banquet!"
Not a single bodyguard moved. They were hardened mafia enforcers, killers who wore bespoke suits, but they knew exactly who the true sovereign of the family was. They stood completely still, their hands hovering near their concealed holsters, waiting for Alexander's command.
"I told you," Alexander said, the absolute stillness of his body contrasting terrifyingly with the chaos of his mother's actions, "to let my daughter go."
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Victoria yanked harder, her face twisted in a manic, desperate snarl, ignoring the fact that she was hurting the child. "She is a brat, Alexander! She is nothing but a stain on this family, just like her mother was!"
That was the breaking point. The invisible tether holding back Alexander's violent, masculine rage snapped cleanly in half. The temperature in the bright, colorful ballroom seemed to plunge into freezing darkness.
