Chapter 2 - The Price of Cruelty
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“You can’t throw me out over a servant!” Vivienne shrieked, her aristocratic demeanor completely shattering. “Do you have any idea who my father is? The Hart family controls half the shipping docks in Brooklyn! You need our alliance!”
Nicholas took two slow, deliberate steps toward her. The air in the foyer suddenly felt heavy, suffocating.
“Your father exists on the docks because I allow him to exist there,” Nicholas said, his tone devoid of any emotion. “And if he asks me why the wedding is off, I will show him the photographs of that little girl’s wrist. I wonder how the press would react to knowing the heiress of Hart Logistics abuses three-year-olds over a pastry.”
Vivienne turned pale. She knew Nicholas didn't make idle threats.
“Nicholas, please,” she pleaded, her tone shifting to desperation. “I was stressed. The wedding planning, the press, the pressure... I lost my temper. I’m sorry.”
“You aren’t sorry you hurt her,” Nicholas said, pointing toward the front door. “You’re sorry I saw it. Take your ring off.”
Vivienne froze. “What?”
“Take it off.”
With shaking fingers, Vivienne pulled the four-carat diamond ring from her left hand. She held it out to him, but Nicholas didn’t reach for it.
“Drop it,” he ordered.
The diamond clattered onto the cold marble floor, rolling to a stop near his leather shoes.
“Arthur’s men will bring your trunks to your father’s estate within the hour,” Nicholas said, turning his back on her. “If I see your face near my property again, Vivienne, I won’t speak to you. I’ll speak to your father. And he won’t like what I have to say.”
Vivienne swallowed hard, her eyes burning with tears of rage and embarrassment. She turned on her heels and stormed out into the pouring rain, the heavy oak doors slamming shut behind her.
Nicholas stood alone in the grand entrance for a moment. He looked down at the glittering ring on the floor, kicked it casually toward the corner, and walked toward the stairs.
Upstairs, the doctor was already wrapping Lucy’s delicate wrist in soft gauze. Maria stood by the window, her knuckles white as she squeezed her own hands together.
“How is she, Frank?” Nicholas asked, entering the room.
Doctor Frank Vance closed his medical bag. “No broken bones, thank God. But severe tissue bruising. Whoever grabbed her applied extreme force. It’s disgusting.”
Nicholas’s jaw tightened. “Thank you, Frank. Arthur will show you out.”
When the doctor left, the room fell into a heavy silence. Maria finally looked up at her employer, her dark eyes filled with terror and confusion.
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“Mr. Caruso,” she whispered. “Why did you do that? Miss Vivienne... she was going to be your wife.”
“She was a mistake,” Nicholas said plainly. “And in my world, Maria, when you recognize a mistake, you eliminate it before it rots the house.”
