Chapter 7
The heavy walnut doors swung open, and four of Soren's heavily armed security operatives entered the bright, luminous dining room. They wore dark suits and grim expressions, their American accents entirely absent as they marched forward without a word. They grabbed Camilla by the arms, hauling her roughly to her feet. She shrieked, thrashing wildly against their iron grip, but they were unyielding.
"Will you remove the ring, Camilla, or must I have my men cut it from your hand?" Soren asked smoothly, his cold, perceptive eyes completely devoid of mercy.
Trembling violently, completely stripped of her power and her future, Camilla ripped the heavy diamond engagement ring from her finger. She threw it fiercely onto the polished walnut table. It struck a crystal wine glass with a sharp crack, spinning out of control before coming to rest near a flickering tall candle.
"You will regret this, Soren!" she screamed as they dragged her backward toward the doors. "You will all burn for this!"
"Will you convey my deepest regards to your father when I send him the pieces of his syndicate?" Soren asked quietly.
He did not answer her further screams. He watched in silence as the heavy oak doors slammed shut behind her, severing the alliance and guaranteeing a bloody mafia war. The room was finally quiet again, the only sound the gentle crackle of the carved marble fireplace.
Soren stood alone near the head table for a long moment, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a slow, controlled breath. The betrayal was absolute, the upcoming syndicate war with Camilla’s father inevitable, but the immediate, toxic sickness within his home had been surgically removed. Now, he had to retrieve his son.
He turned his body, his polished leather shoes pivoting seamlessly on the thick rug, and walked toward the two figures remaining by the bassinet.
Elodie was kneeling on the floor, holding Alice tightly in her arms. The sophisticated black maid dress contrasted sharply with the girl’s pale-blue party dress. Alice had buried her face in the crook of Elodie’s neck, her small body trembling from the shouting and the sudden violence of Camilla’s removal. Elodie was gently stroking the child's hair, her softly heart-shaped face etched with deep, maternal relief.
Soren stopped beside them, his imposing, masculine frame casting a protective shadow over the housemaid and his daughter.
"Are you unharmed, Alice?" Soren asked, his deep voice softening significantly, losing its lethal, interrogative edge.
Alice turned her head, her fair, rosy cheeks stained with fresh tears. She looked at the towering mafia boss, her eyes searching for reassurance. "I'm okay, Daddy. Are you going to find Theo?"
"Would I ever allow someone to take your brother from this family?" Soren asked, reaching out to gently cup the girl’s cheek.
Alice sniffled, leaning into the man's large, tattooed hand. "No."
"Are you a brave girl?" Soren asked, his thumb brushing away a tear.
"Yes," Alice nodded, her small chin trembling.
Soren shifted his gaze to Elodie. The beautiful housemaid was watching him, her expressive brows drawn together in quiet empathy. She had risked her job, her safety, and her life by exposing the doll and standing against the fiancée of a mafia boss. The fierce loyalty she had displayed was a rare, precious commodity in Soren's dark, violent world.
"Are you in pain, Elodie?" Soren asked, his cold, perceptive eyes scanning her delicate features.
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"No, Mr. Blackwell," Elodie answered softly, her elegant posture unwavering even as she knelt on the floor. "I am just... I am so sorry I didn't realize it sooner. I should have checked the bassinet before dinner."
"Do you believe I would fault you for failing to anticipate the madness of a traitor?" Soren asked, holding her gaze with an intensity that sent a sudden, warm flutter through Elodie’s chest.
