Chapter 8
The word "treason" echoed off the cream marble columns, freezing the blood of the fifty guests gathered around the room. The bright, luminous colors of the salon seemed to drain away, leaving only the stark, horrifying reality of Vanessa’s impending downfall.
"Gideon, darling, please," Vanessa gasped, her chest heaving as she finally realized the catastrophic magnitude of her mistake. "You must understand! It was a moment of weakness! Evan pursued me! You have been so busy with the syndicate, and I was lonely! The maid is exaggerating!"
"Does loneliness compel you to defile my bed and torture my staff?" Gideon inquired, his perceptive eyes narrowing into cold slits.
"She is a maid!" Vanessa shrieked, pointing a shaking, diamond-adorned finger at the space behind Gideon, though she shrank back under his lethal glare. "She is nothing! I am the daughter of a king! You cannot humiliate me in front of our families over a meaningless kiss!"
"You humiliated yourself the moment you brought your filth into my home," Gideon replied coldly.
He slowly swept his gaze across the room, taking in the numerous capos, donors, and relatives standing frozen among the burgundy velvet sofas. His eyes locked onto Marcus, his most trusted lieutenant.
"Have you all finished your champagne?" Gideon asked the room at large.
It was phrased as a polite question, but the command hidden within it was unmistakable and absolute.
Guests practically scrambled toward the exits. There were no polite farewells, no lingering handshakes. Men in tailored suits and women in expensive evening gowns fled the bright, elegant room with frantic urgency, eager to escape the blast radius of Gideon Whitmore’s wrath.
"What are you doing?!" Vanessa shrieked, watching her audience, her leverage, and her protection sprint for the heavy mahogany doors. "You can't just dismiss them! My family's capos are in this room!"
The men loyal to the Kerr family did not stay. They took one look at the cold, calculating fury in Gideon's eyes and the armed men loyal to the Whitmore syndicate stepping out from the shadows, and they ran just as fast as the civilians.
Within ninety seconds, the expansive grand salon was completely empty, save for Gideon, Vanessa, Audrey, Milo, and four heavily armed Whitmore bodyguards.
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The heavy mahogany doors slammed shut, sealing the room and locking Vanessa inside with her greatest nightmare.
"Did you truly believe you could run a psychological torture operation against my household and remain standing in my home?" Gideon asked, turning his terrifying focus entirely back to the woman in the emerald gown.
