Chapter 6 - An Unwelcome Guest
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The grand drawing room on the main floor smelled of expensive French perfume and burning cedar logs.
Camilla Vance, the daughter of Illinois Supreme Court Justice Harrison Vance, stood before the marble mantle, tapping her diamond-encrusted watch.
She wore a scarlet wool designer dress that clung tightly to her slender frame, paired with four-inch Italian leather stilettos.
Her family controlled the judicial appointments in three counties, making her the prime candidate for the strategic alliance Alessandro’s board had proposed.
When Alessandro walked into the drawing room, Camilla turned with a dramatic pout, tossing her sleek blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Alessandro, darling, your security team at the gate had the audacity to search my driver's trunk!” she complained, stepping forward with outstretched arms.
Alessandro did not step into her embrace; he simply walked behind his desk and poured himself two fingers of dark bourbon.
“My security protocol applies to every vehicle entering these grounds, Camilla,” Alessandro replied evenly.
“Including yours.”
Camilla lowered her arms, her blue eyes flashing with irritation at his cold, unyielding reception.
“Well, I suppose that’s why you need a proper society hostess to run this mausoleum,” she said, smoothing the front of her designer dress.
“Speaking of which, I heard the most absurd rumor while having tea at the country club this afternoon.”
Alessandro took a slow sip of his bourbon, his eyes narrowing slightly over the crystal rim.
“People at the country club rarely have anything useful to say.”
“They say you fired Beatrice!” Camilla exclaimed, dropping onto the velvet sofa with an incredulous laugh.
“Beatrice was the cousin of Senator Sterling’s chief of staff!”
“She kept the domestic staff terrified, which is precisely how servants ought to be managed!”
“And why on earth would you throw her out into the street?”
“She assaulted an innocent woman in my dining room,” Alessandro answered, his voice dropping into that chilling, dangerous register.
Camilla scoffed, waving her manicured hand as if swatting away an annoying fly.
“An innocent woman? You mean that oversized scullery maid who dropped the lunch service?”
“I saw her once when she was scrubbing the entryway floor, Alessandro.”
“She looked like a country farmhand stuffed into an apron that was three sizes too small for her.”
The crystal glass in Alessandro’s hand came down onto the mahogany desk with a sharp, explosive crack that silenced the room.
He leaned forward, his dark eyes burning with an inferno so cold that Camilla shrank back into the velvet cushions.
“The woman you are referring to is Miss Meline Pierce,” Alessandro said, each syllable measured, distinct, and lethal.
“She is the personal guest of my father, and she holds more honor in her breath than your entire social circle possesses in its bank vaults.”
Camilla blinked in astonishment, her arrogant veneer cracking under the raw ferocity of his defense.
“You’re defending a maid over me?” she whispered, her voice rising into an offended screech.
“We are supposed to announce our betrothal at the Winter Solstice Gala next month!”
“My father has already secured the zoning permits for your new container terminal on the lake!”
“Then tell your father to tear the permits up,” Alessandro replied, walking around the desk toward the doorway.
“Because I will marry a woman of honor, Camilla, not a viper who judges human worth by the cut of a coat or the size of a dress.”
Upstairs on the mezzanine, Meline stood leaning against the polished banister, having hobbled out to fetch a fresh pitcher of water.
Every single word of the conversation below had drifted up through the vaulted acoustic arches of the foyer.
Her heart pounded against her ribs, her hands clutching the cool stone railing as she listened to the mafia boss defend her honor.
Down below, Camilla stormed toward the double front doors, her face twisted in pure, venomous humiliation.
May you like
As she reached the threshold, she looked up and caught sight of Meline standing in the shadows of the mezzanine.
Camilla’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure malice, her mouth curving into a cruel, promising sneer before she vanished into the rain.
