Chapter 3 - The Lion's Den
“Get out,” Dominic said quietly.
The guests didn't wait for a second invitation.
Within thirty seconds, the high-society elite of Chicago were scrambling for the exit.
The grand dining room was left completely empty except for the core players of the tragedy.
Dominic’s primary enforcer, a hulking man named Victor, stood by the door.
His hand rested near his jacket pocket, waiting for orders.
Bianca fell into a chair, trying to summon tears.
“Dominic, please, I did it for us!”
“Noah needs structure!”
“He’s obsessed with the past, obsessed with his dead mother, and now he’s latching onto this... this peasant!”
Evelyn stood up, lifting Noah effortlessly into her arms.
“The only person obsessed with destroying this family is you, Bianca.”
“You didn't just try to get rid of Noah.”
“You’re the reason Marissa died.”
Dominic froze halfway through pouring himself a stiff drink.
He dropped the crystal decanter, his eyes flashing with a terrifying, primal rage.
“What did you say about my wife?”
“Marissa didn't die of a sudden illness, Dominic,” Evelyn said.
Her voice dropped into a steady rhythm, carrying through the quiet room.
“She discovered that the Sterling family was using Vale Shipping docks to smuggle illegal contraband without your knowledge.”
“She accumulated the evidence.”
“She was going to give it to you the night of her accident.”
“You’re lying!” Bianca shrieked, standing up so fast her chair fell backward.
“Dominic, she’s trying to destroy the merger between our companies!”
“She’s an operative sent by the unions!”
“I’m the woman who promised Marissa I would protect her son,” Evelyn countered.
Her voice settled into a fierce whisper.
“The night of the funeral, your mother, Eleanor Vale, found Marissa’s files.”
“But instead of showing you, she burned them to protect the family name from a scandal.”
“And then she hired Bianca to be your next wife to seal the Sterling fortune.”
Dominic looked at Victor.
“Where is my mother?”
“Madame Eleanor is in the West Wing, boss,” Victor replied.
His usual stoic demeanor was cracking under the weight of the revelation.
May you like
“Bring her here,” Dominic ordered.
“Now.”
