Chapter 29
Soren stood a few paces away, a monument of lethal, masculine power in a flawless black tuxedo. His cold, unblinking eyes scanned the room, calculating every angle and blind spot.
The heavy mahogany doors opened, and Elias Vance stepped into the ballroom. He was a large, fair-skinned man with an arrogant, cruel smile, flanked by three massive bodyguards in ill-fitting suits. Vance did not respect the subtle etiquette of the American elite; he moved with the blunt force of a thug pretending to be a gentleman. He locked eyes with Elodie and began marching directly toward her, entirely underestimating the woman he intended to exploit.
Soren did not intervene. He remained perfectly still, watching his queen prepare to dismantle the federal prosecutor.
"Mrs. Blackwell," Elias Vance boomed, his voice cutting through the polite, American-accented conversations nearby. He reached out and grabbed Elodie’s hand, kissing her knuckles with an exaggerated, aggressive flourish that bordered on assault. "Your foundation is a beautiful thing. Almost as beautiful as you."
May you like
Elodie did not flinch. She withdrew her hand smoothly, wiping the back of her knuckles against the satin fabric of her gown in a subtle, dismissive gesture. "Mr. Vance. We appreciate your sudden interest in our philanthropic endeavors," Elodie replied, her voice eerily calm, mimicking the terrifying, absolute control she had learned from her husband.
"I am a generous man," Vance sneered, leaning closer to her, trying to use his sheer physical size to intimidate her. "I have millions to donate. But my donations require... special routing. Confidential routing through your shell accounts. You help me, and your charity becomes the most powerful in the state."
