Chapter 3
Alexander did not walk toward the main guest entrance. He carried his daughter straight through the heavy metal service doors, moving with a dark, predatory momentum. Hotel staff in black-and-white uniforms scrambled out of his way, their fair faces pale with alarm as the handsome, suited man marched past them with a filthy, barefoot child in his arms.
"Mr. Sterling! Sir, you can't come through the kitchens!" a head chef protested, stepping forward with his hands raised.
"Move," Alexander growled, his voice a low, vibrating threat that carried a lethal edge.
The chef immediately stepped aside, recognizing the terrifying, unhinged look in the billionaire's eyes. Alexander kicked open the swinging double doors that led from the service corridor directly onto the main floor of the grand ballroom.
The ballroom was an explosion of bright video colors and vivid, natural light. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a flawless, radiant glow over the hundreds of gala guests. The women wore spectacular, jewel-toned evening gowns, and the men were dressed in impeccable formal black-tie attire. The room was a sea of fair, rosy skin and enormous wealth.
As Alexander stepped onto the plush carpet, holding the dirty, trembling four-year-old against his ruined dress shirt, the atmosphere of the room shifted violently.
The sweeping, romantic waltz being played by the live orchestra faltered. One by one, the musicians lowered their instruments until the music died completely. The sudden, deafening silence rippled across the vast room like a shockwave.
The wealthy American guests stopped talking. They turned toward the service doors, their perfectly rehearsed smiles dropping. Hands holding expensive crystal flutes of champagne slowly lowered to their sides.
At the very center of the ballroom, standing beside a towering, spectacular multi-tiered gala cake, was Victoria Sterling.
At seventy years old, Victoria was the picture of aristocratic elegance. She wore a stunning, emerald-green evening gown that complemented her fair, rosy complexion. A heavy, flawless pearl necklace rested against her collarbone, matching the expensive pearl earrings that dangled from her ears. She held a silver cake knife, posing for a photographer.
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When the music stopped, Victoria turned her head. Her eyes locked onto her son. Then, her gaze dropped to the barefoot child clinging to his suit.
Victoria froze entirely. The silver cake knife slipped slightly in her manicured hand. The bright, cinematic lighting illuminated the sudden, sharp panic that flashed across her wrinkled, powdered face. For a long, agonizing moment, absolutely no dialogue was spoken. The entire ballroom held its breath, trapped in the terrifying tension radiating from the handsome man standing at the edge of the room.
