Chapter 2
The bright, saturated colors of the dining room seemed to freeze in time. None of the well-dressed guests intervened; some simply looked away, while others took slow, uncomfortable sips of their wine. Heloise adjusted her elegant gown, preparing to return to her seat as if she hadn't just struck a child. Thora stood trembling, biting her lip to keep her sobs quiet, her small fingers white-knuckled around the edges of the silver serving tray.
At that exact moment, the heavy double doors of the grand foyer swung open.
Aldric stepped into the blinding cinematic light of the hallway. At thirty-eight years old, he was breathtakingly handsome, possessing the chiseled, flawless features of a classic movie star. His thick, dark hair was perfectly styled, and he exuded a powerful, overwhelmingly masculine presence that instantly commanded the room. He wore a crisp button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, tailored trousers, and polished shoes. In his right hand, he carried a heavy leather travel suitcase, having returned three days early from a long, grueling work trip.
"I thought I heard a commotion," Aldric began, his deep American accent resonating through the house.
He took three steps into the dining room and froze. The charming, tired smile on his face evaporated instantly. His sharp, calculating eyes bypassed the extravagant food, the crystal glasses, and the silent guests. His gaze locked entirely onto the tiny, trembling figure of his five-year-old daughter.
Thora was standing against the wall in a humiliating maid’s uniform. She was holding a heavy serving tray, and her small, free hand was pressed desperately against her rapidly swelling, bright red cheek. Tears were spilling over her rosy skin.
"Thora?" Aldric whispered, the sheer confusion in his voice rapidly morphing into something dark and dangerous.
"Aldric! Darling, you're home early!" Heloise gasped, her fair face draining of all color. She plastered on a frantic, fake smile and took a step toward him. "We weren't expecting you until Friday! We were just having a little family dinner."
Aldric did not look at her. The heavy leather suitcase slipped from his grip. It hit the polished hardwood floor with a deafening, echoing thud that made several guests jump in their seats.
"Daddy," Thora whimpered, her voice cracking as she looked at him through her tears.
Aldric crossed the massive dining room in four long, explosive strides. He moved with a terrifying, predatory grace. He reached his daughter and immediately pulled the heavy silver serving tray from her small, aching hands, tossing it carelessly onto the dining table. Silverware clattered loudly. He gently took Thora by the shoulders and placed her safely and securely behind his broad back, shielding her entirely from the room.
He slowly turned his head to look at Heloise. The cinematic light caught the absolute, murderous fury blazing in his eyes.
"What happened to her face?" Aldric demanded.
"Aldric, she was misbehaving," Heloise stammered, taking a nervous step backward. "She was being completely unruly. I was just disciplining her."
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Aldric’s jaw clenched so tightly the muscles ticked visibly beneath his fair skin. He took one step toward his wife, his voice dropping into a low, terrifyingly furious register that vibrated through the floorboards.
"Take your hands off my daughter."
