Chapter 5
The front foyer of the Blackwood estate was bathed in the harsh, flashing red and blue lights of police cruisers parked outside in the torrential rain.
Senator Vance, a powerful, silver-haired politician with a face contorted in manufactured outrage, stood in the center of the marble-tiled hall. Behind him stood four armed municipal officers and a frantic legal advisor holding a thick leather briefcase.
"This is an outrage, Ronan!" Senator Vance boomed, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. "My future daughter-in-law was thrown out into the rain like a common criminal! You will explain yourself immediately, or you’ll find your entire corporate empire tied up in federal investigations before sunrise!"
The heavy oak doors at the end of the grand staircase creaked open.
Every eye in the foyer snapped upward.
Ronan Blackwood descended the stairs slowly, step by deliberate step. He wasn't wearing his coat anymore; he wore a crisp charcoal suit, his sleeves rolled up slightly, revealing the hard, disciplined lines of his forearms. Behind him, walking with quiet, unshakeable dignity despite the bandage on her shoulder, was Ivy.
The sight of the maid descending the private stairs beside the most feared man in the city sent a shockwave through the room. The police officers instinctively rested their hands on their holsters.
"Senator," Ronan said, his voice cutting through the noise of the storm outside like a razor. "You trespass in my home, threaten my business, and raise your voice under my roof. You must be feeling very confident tonight."
Senator Vance flushed red, pointing an accusing finger toward Ivy. "You discarded Vivienne for a maid! A nobody! She assaulted her—"
"She defended a child," Ronan interrupted, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper as he reached the bottom of the landing. He stepped directly into the senator's personal space, forcing the older man to step back. "Your granddaughter’s catering assistant dropped a bowl of soup, and Vivienne raised a leather crop to whip a teenager in my ballroom. Your daughter-in-law is a sadistic sociopath, Vance. And if you ever step foot on my property again to defend her actions, I won't just ruin your career—I'll publish every financial ledger your campaign has tried to hide for the last decade."
May you like
The color drained entirely from Senator Vance’s face. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He knew Ronan Blackwood kept receipts for everything.
"Officers," Ronan said, turning his cold gaze toward the municipal police. "Escort the senator off my property. Now."
