Chapter 9 - The Ultimatum
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Vivien’s smile vanished. “You are a caregiver. A maid. You wipe drool from an old woman's chin. You are nothing in this world. When my father hears that Dominic insulted me over a servant, he will burn this mansion to the ground. And he will start with you.”
“Your father won't burn anything,” a low voice rumbled from the doorway.
Both women turned.
Dominic stood there. He hadn't made a sound.
Vivien’s composure finally cracked. “Dominic, darling, please listen to me. She provoked me. She has been trying to turn your mother against me since the day I arrived!”
“Save it,” Dominic commanded. He didn't yell. The sheer, freezing absolute of his tone was far worse than a shout.
He walked fully into the room, stopping between Vivien and Marin. He didn't look at Vivien. He kept his back to her, facing Marin.
“Is she finished packing?” Dominic asked Marin.
“Yes, sir,” Marin replied, finding her voice.
Dominic finally turned to his former fiancée. “Your bags are packed. My men are waiting downstairs. They will drive you back to your father’s estate. You will tell him that the engagement is broken because I found you unsuitable.”
“Unsuitable?” Vivien shrieked, the mask completely off. “You arrogant bastard! You need us! The Russian syndicates are pushing on your northern borders! Without my family's alliance, you’ll be bleeding out within six months!”
“Then I will bleed,” Dominic said coldly. “But I will not harbor a woman who threatens children under my roof.”
Vivien glared at him, then at Marin. “You’re choosing her over your empire. Over your own survival.”
“I am choosing my mother's peace,” Dominic corrected. He gestured to the door. “Leave. Before I decide that returning you to your father is too generous.”
Vivien stared at the dark, murderous promise in his eyes. She swallowed hard, realizing she had pushed too far. She turned on her heel and marched out of the room, her pride the only thing keeping her upright.
When her footsteps faded down the hall, the oppressive tension in the room broke.
Marin exhaled a long, shuddering breath and leaned against the vanity.
Dominic turned to her. The cold fury melted into something almost uncomfortably intense. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.
“Carlo has Eli downstairs,” Dominic said softly. “He’s eating ice cream in the kitchen with Mrs. Gable.”
Marin covered her mouth, a fresh wave of tears hitting her. “Thank you.”
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“You don't have to thank me for doing what should have been done weeks ago,” Dominic said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.
Marin stared at it. It was the same box she had found in the vanity.
