Chapter 4
The heavy silence hung in the bright, airy dining room like a loaded gun. The soft, elegant warmth of the cinematic lighting starkly illuminated the sheer terror now gripping Vivienne Shaw’s face. She looked frantically around the massive table, her eyes darting from the hardened capos to the wealthy politicians, desperately searching for an ally. No one moved. The elite members of the Cross syndicate were entirely loyal to the man at the head of the table, and they recognized an execution when they saw one.
"Nathaniel... darling, this is absurd," Vivienne stammered, her voice cracking horribly. Her hands gripped the edges of the mahogany table, her knuckles turning white around her massive engagement ring. "She's three years old! Children make up stories!"
"She made up a story?" Nathaniel repeated softly.
He didn't yell. The terrifying power of the mafia boss lay in his absolute, unyielding control. He slowly unclasped his tattooed hands, resting them flat on the table.
"Lily," Nathaniel said, not taking his cold, penetrating eyes off his fiancée. "Tell me exactly what was said in the nursery this afternoon."
Lily swallowed hard. She kept her hand firmly over Sophie’s, drawing strength from the little girl's trusting grip on her apron. She knew she was holding a lit match over a powder keg, but she could not allow the child to suffer another moment of this psychological abuse.
"Ms. Shaw entered the nursery after lunch," Lily began, her voice steadying as she spoke the truth. "Sophie was showing her a drawing. She asked Ms. Shaw if I could be in the family picture for the wedding. Ms. Shaw told her no."
"That's a lie!" Vivienne shrieked, half-rising from her chair.
"Sit down," Nathaniel ordered. The deep, rumbling command physically forced Vivienne back into her seat. He nodded slightly at the maid. "Continue, Lily."
"Ms. Shaw told Sophie that she demanded entirely too much attention," Lily continued, tears finally spilling over her dark lashes and tracing clean lines down her fair, rosy cheeks. "She told her that because she loved me more than her future mother, she was going to have me fired by the end of the week. She said I would be thrown out onto the street, and Sophie would never see me again."
A low, dangerous murmur rippled through the assembled capos. Harming a child of the boss, even psychologically, was an act of profound treason in their world.
"You threatened to exile the maternal figure my daughter has known," Nathaniel stated, analyzing the information with a cold, terrifying detachment. "And you did it to force her obedience."
"I was trying to establish boundaries!" Vivienne cried out, tears of genuine panic finally streaming down her face. She reached across the table, her manicured fingers grasping at the empty air toward him. "She needs to learn respect! She needs to know who is in charge of this household! I am going to be your wife!"
"No," Nathaniel replied smoothly, the single word carrying a devastating finality. "You are not."
Vivienne gasped, clutching her chest as if she had been physically struck. "Nathaniel, please! You can't do this in front of these people! Think of the optics! Think of our alliance!"
"My only alliance is to my bloodline," Nathaniel said, his jawline sharpening as he stood up slowly. His broad shoulders blocked out the chandelier light. "You looked at my daughter and decided she was a rival for my attention. You attempted to break her spirit by threatening to take away someone she loves."
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He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy, encrypted smartphone. He didn't dial a number; he simply pressed a single button that connected directly to his security detail outside.
"Bring the car around to the front," Nathaniel instructed the device softly. "Ms. Shaw is leaving the estate."
