Chapter 7
The silence in the grand dining hall was absolute, a suffocating vacuum created by the sudden, terrifying shift in power. The warm golden light from the crystal chandeliers continued to bathe the room, but the atmosphere was as cold as a morgue.
Alexander stood tall, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow over the mahogany table. He kept one hand protectively over his son's, while the other rested loosely at his side, his tattooed fingers completely still.
"Did you think I would marry a woman who views my son's heart as a battleground?" Alexander asked, his voice echoing cleanly off the carved walnut wall panels.
Vivienne swallowed hard. The fair, rosy skin of her neck flushed a dark, angry red. She looked wildly around the table, desperately seeking an ally among the seated guests. But the men and women in their formal attire stared back at her with blank, horrified expressions. In their world, children were untouchable. To punish a caregiver out of petty jealousy over a motherless child's affection was a line that even criminals did not cross.
"Alexander, you are taking the word of a child and a servant over your future wife," Vivienne finally managed to say, her American accent trembling with rising panic. "She is manipulating him! She is trying to turn him against me so she can secure her place in this house!"
"Do you take me for a fool, Vivienne?" Alexander inquired, his perceptive eyes narrowing into dark slits. "Do you believe I haven't noticed the way my son flinches when you enter a room?"
"I demand respect!" Vivienne shrieked, her voice pitching up, entirely shattering the elegant, polished illusion she had cultivated. "I am a Shaw! My family brings the eastern ports to this alliance! You cannot speak to me this way!"
"Can't I?" Alexander asked smoothly.
He slowly withdrew his hand from Oliver's, ensuring the boy was calm, and took a single, deliberate step toward the center of the table.
"Do you believe your family's ports are worth the price of my son's tears?" Alexander questioned, his deep voice carrying a terrifying, measured cadence. "Are a few shipping lanes worth the life of the woman who keeps him safe?"
May you like
Vivienne stumbled backward, her chair scraping harshly against the thick patterned rug. The reality of the situation was finally crashing down upon her. She hadn't just lost the argument; she had lost the empire.
Behind Alexander, Nora remained wrapped in the heavy, tailored suit jacket. Her shivering had mostly subsided, replaced by a profound, overwhelming awe. She watched the broad, powerful back of the man who was currently burning down a multi-million-dollar political alliance simply to avenge her.
