Chapter 3 - The Fall of the False Queen
Serena Montigue backed away, her stiletto heels clicking frantically against the marble floor. The arrogant, untouchable queen of high society was gone, replaced by a terrified animal backed into a corner. She had always known what Victor Blackwood was capable of. She had enjoyed the power and fear his name commanded when she was on his arm, attending galas and spending his millions. But she had never, in her deepest nightmares, imagined that lethally cold rage being directed at her.
“Victor, please, be reasonable,” Serena stammered, her hands trembling wildly as she held them up in defense. “You’re overreacting. He’s just a baby, he doesn't know any better. He was screaming, giving me a migraine! You know how much stress I’ve been under planning this wedding! I just needed him to be quiet. I didn't mean to really hurt him.”
Every word out of her mouth was a shovel digging her grave deeper.
Victor took a slow, measured step toward her. The baby, safely held against his solid chest, had finally stopped crying, lulled by the familiar, deep heartbeat of his father.
“You needed him to be quiet,” Victor repeated, his voice dangerously smooth, like a blade sliding through silk. “You planned to lock my heir in a dark closet because he inconvenienced your afternoon.”
“I’m your fiancée!” Serena shrieked, desperation clawing at her throat. “I come from the Montigue family! You need my family’s political connections for the harbor project! You can’t let some pathetic, minimum-wage nanny ruin our alliance over a crying fit! She’s nothing! I am everything!”
Victor stopped a few feet away from her. He looked at the massive, flawless five-carat diamond ring glittering on her left hand. The ring he had given her in a pragmatic, emotionless business arrangement designed to merge two powerful families.
“Your family’s political connections,” Victor said softly, “are built on my money. Your father’s mayoral campaign is funded by my accounts. Your entire bloodline exists in this city because I allow it.”
Serena swallowed hard, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. The reality of her situation was finally crashing down.
“Take the ring off,” Victor commanded.
“What? Victor, no, please—”
“Take. It. Off.” The volume of his voice barely rose, but the sheer, crushing authority behind it made the windows rattle.
Trembling, tears of genuine panic ruining her expensive makeup, Serena grabbed the massive diamond and yanked it off her finger. She held it out, her hand shaking violently.
Victor didn't take it. He looked at Marcus, his head of security.
“Take the ring, Marcus,” Victor ordered, his eyes never leaving Serena’s terrified face. “Have it melted down. The diamond will be crushed to dust. I will not have my family crest tainted by the touch of a child abuser.”
Marcus stepped forward and snatched the ring from Serena’s palm. She flinched, letting out a pathetic sob.
“As for you,” Victor continued, his tone clinical and absolute. “You will leave this house with exactly what you brought into it. Nothing. Your clothes, your jewelry, your cars—they were bought with my money. They stay. You will walk out of those front doors in the dress you are wearing.”
“Victor, it’s raining! It’s freezing outside! You can’t just throw me out on the street, I have nowhere to go!”
“You have five seconds before I forget that I promised myself I wouldn't kill a woman,” Victor whispered, stepping so close to her that she could feel the cold radiating from him. “If I ever see your face in this city again, if I ever hear that you spoke my son’s name, I will not send my men. I will come for you myself. And I will make you beg for the mercy you denied my son.”
Serena looked into his eyes and saw her own death reflected back at her. The mafia boss wasn't bluffing. She let out a choked, terrified cry, hiking up the skirt of her expensive white silk gown, and turned on her heel. She didn't look back. She ran past the bodyguards, stumbling out the heavy wooden doors and into the pouring, freezing rain, screaming as the storm swallowed her whole.
The heavy doors clicked shut behind her, sealing her fate forever. By morning, the Montigue family would find all their accounts frozen, their political careers destroyed by a single phone call, and their daughter a disgraced pariah.
The grand foyer was quiet once more, save for the steady drumming of rain against the high windows.
Victor stood in the center of the room, taking a deep, stabilizing breath. He looked down at Ethan. The baby had fallen asleep, his tiny thumb tucked securely in his mouth, the bruises on his arm a stark reminder of the nightmare they had just survived.
Then, Victor turned his attention back to the corner of the room.
Lily was still kneeling on the marble floor. She was clutching her ribs, shivering from the cold drafts and the fading adrenaline. She kept her head bowed, expecting to be fired, expecting the wrath of the boss to turn on her next for failing to prevent the abuse in the first place.
Victor walked over to her. He didn't summon his guards. He didn't issue a command.
With his free hand, the most feared man in the city reached down and gently cupped Lily’s bruised, bleeding chin, lifting her face so she had to look him in the eye.
“You bled for my family today,” Victor said, his voice completely stripped of its previous coldness, replaced by a profound, heavy respect. “You threw your body over my son. You faced a monster with nothing but your own courage.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Blackwood,” Lily whispered, fresh tears spilling over his hand. “I’m just the nanny. I should have done more.”
“You are not just a nanny,” Victor corrected softly, his thumb gently wiping a tear away from her uninjured cheek, careful not to touch the cut. “You are a protector. And from this day forward, no one will ever lay a hand on you again. Marcus!”
May you like
The giant bodyguard stepped forward instantly. “Yes, boss.”
“Call Dr. Evans. Tell him to get to the estate immediately. Bring the medical kit from my office. And have the staff prepare the master guest suite.” Victor looked back down at the beautiful, broken girl who had saved his world. “You’re safe now, Lily. I’ve got you.”
