Chapter 1 - The Silence Before the Storm
Victor Blackwood did not raise his voice when he spoke, yet his single word shattered the fragile acoustics of the marble foyer.
"Serena."
The sound of his voice caused the elegant socialite to freeze instantly. The venomous mask she had worn while pressing her designer heel into Lily’s stomach vanished, replaced in a microsecond by a breathless, trembling facade of shock and innocence. She lifted her foot, stepping off Lily’s abdomen, and spun around with a practiced, tear-bright smile trembling on her lips.
"Victor! Darling, you’re... you’re back early," Serena stammered, her voice pitched in a fragile, high-toned flutter. "Thank goodness. It’s... it’s this dreadful girl. The nanny. She—she was careless, Victor. She dropped Ethan, and when I tried to pull him away from her to help him, she went completely hysterical, attacking me, and—"
Victor did not look at Serena. His eyes remained fixed on the small, limp form of his fourteen-month-old son on the cold stone. Ethan’s arm was twisted at an impossible, grotesque angle, his tiny chest barely moving as shallow, rattling gasps escaped his purple lips.
Slowly, Victor closed the distance between them. Every step he took on the marble sounded like a judge slamming a gavel. The air grew so dense with menace that even the guards standing near the front entrance bowed their heads, not daring to witness the impending wrath.
"Victor, please, look at me," Serena pleaded, reaching out a manicured hand to touch his sleeve. "The girl is lying. She’s unstable. Look at how she’s looking at me—"
Victor raised his hand. He didn’t strike her; he merely pointed a single finger toward the heavy mahogany doors. Two of his personal enforcers stepped forward instantly, their massive frames blocking any exit.
"Not another word, Serena," Victor whispered. The quiet deadliness of his tone made her recoil. He dropped to his knees beside his son, ignoring the blood and dirt staining his expensive trousers, and gathered Ethan into his arms with surprising, terrifying gentleness. "Get Dr. Vance on the private line right now. If my son loses consciousness, every single person in this zip code will answer to me."
Lily, coughing and gasping for air against the cold floor, watched through a blur of tears as the most feared man in Chicago cradled the tiny infant against his chest. She expected him to yell. She expected him to demand explanations. Instead, Victor turned his chilling, pitch-black gaze down at Lily.
"Can you stand?" he asked.
May you like
Lily swallowed the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, gripped the base of a marble pillar, and dragged herself up onto trembling legs. "Yes. I... I can stand."
"Then pick up his blanket," Victor commanded, his voice brooking no argument as he turned toward the private medical wing. "You’re coming with us. And you are going to tell me every single thing you saw."
