Chapter 3
The silence in the dining hall stretched taut, a physical weight that pressed down on the guests. The bright, luminous colors of the room—the clean whites, the gold rims of the porcelain, the rich red of the roses—seemed to sharpen in high-definition focus. Alexander remained perfectly still, his hand resting beside the newly placed vase, his cold eyes shifting from the trembling maid to his fiancée.
Vivienne met Alexander’s eyes without hesitation. Her fair, rosy skin was flawless, projecting an aura of complete innocence. She offered a soft, dismissive laugh that echoed lightly against the carved walnut wall panels.
“She spilled water on herself,” Vivienne announced casually, her American accent airy and unconcerned.
Her mouth maintained a reassuring, polite smile, aimed to put the rest of the dinner guests at ease. She reached for her crystal stemware, taking a delicate sip of wine. Yet, above the rim of the glass, her eyes remained intensely watchful, searching Alexander’s sharply defined expression for any sign of agreement or dismissal.
Alexander did not smile. The extremely short stubble on his jawline seemed to harden into granite. He tilted his head a fraction of an inch, analyzing the lie presented to him.
"Does spilled water cause a woman's lips to turn blue, Vivienne?" Alexander asked.
Vivienne’s smile tightened significantly. The casual dismissal she had attempted had failed. She set her glass down, her diamond engagement ring clicking sharply against the table.
"She is simply being dramatic, darling," Vivienne insisted, her voice lowering slightly, attempting to manage the situation before it escalated further. "The staff in this house are entirely too pampered. A little cold water is nothing to cause a scene over."
"Is that your medical opinion?" Alexander inquired, his deep voice carrying a chilling, measured cadence. "Do you believe hypothermia is a theatrical performance?"
Vivienne’s chest heaved slightly beneath the sculpted satin of her evening gown. She realized the danger she was in. Alexander was not letting it go. After speaking, she shot Nora a brief, vicious warning look—a silent threat promising severe retaliation if the maid dared to contradict her.
"I believe you are overthinking a trivial domestic matter, Alexander," Vivienne countered, forcing her smile back into place. "Shall we return our attention to our guests? They are waiting for the next course."
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"Are they?" Alexander asked, sweeping his cold gaze across the paralyzed, silent room before returning his focus entirely to the shivering woman standing beside his chair. "Or are they waiting to see what happens next?"
Nora stood frozen, her sophisticated black maid dress offering absolutely no warmth. Her inner brows lifted helplessly as the battle of wills raged around her. She was trapped between the terrifying power of the Mafia boss and the vindictive cruelty of his future wife. The bright, clean lighting of the room offered no shadows to hide in, exposing her terror completely.
