Chapter 5
The bright, natural sunlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows offered no warmth to the woman trembling on the sofa. Evelyn’s elegant formal gown seemed to suffocate her as she struggled to draw breath. The cold, intimidating eyes of Darius Sterling pinned her in place, demanding an answer that would undoubtedly result in a bloodbath.
"Darius, I swear to you," Evelyn stammered, her hands gripping the armrests of the sofa until her knuckles turned white. "It was a misunderstanding. The boy is confused. He misheard a conversation about the wedding arrangements!"
"Wedding arrangements," Darius echoed, the words rolling off his tongue with a slow, dangerous precision. He did not raise his voice. He did not yell. "You crushed his hearing aid beneath your heel. Over wedding arrangements."
"He was spying on me!" Evelyn cried out, her pale porcelain skin flushing with a toxic mixture of panic and defensive rage. "I was stressed! The caterers are a mess, the seating chart is ruined, and he was lurking in the shadows like a little rat! I lost my temper!"
"Sarah," Darius murmured softly, his gaze never leaving Evelyn.
The housekeeper, who had finished adjusting the spare device in the little boy's ear, stood up respectfully. "Yes, Mr. Sterling. It's working perfectly now."
Darius reached behind him, his large, tattooed hand gently resting on his son's shoulder. "Malik. Come here, son."
Malik stepped out from behind his father's protective frame. His warm, cocoa-brown skin was still stained with tears, but the presence of his father gave him profound courage. He looked at the broken plastic on the floor, then up at his father's handsome, angular face.
"Can you hear me, Malik?" Darius asked gently, the menacing edge vanishing entirely from his tone when he addressed his blood.
"Yes, Dad," Malik nodded, his small American accent clear and steady.
"Tell me," Darius said, shifting his gaze back to Evelyn, the lethal coldness returning instantly. "Tell me exactly what you heard the lady say in the hallway."
Evelyn let out a sudden, hysterical sob. "Darius, don't do this! He's three years old! You are going to let a toddler dictate the future of our family?"
"Our family?" Darius questioned, a dark, mocking amusement touching the corner of his lips. "You ceased to be part of this family the moment you touched him. Speak, Malik."
Malik pointed a tiny finger directly at the bar, where the forty-five-year-old senior capo was boxed in by the security detail.
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"She was talking to Uncle Andre," Malik said loudly, the innocence in his voice making the horrific revelation all the more devastating. "Uncle Andre said the boats were ready. He said they were going to put you in the water tonight, Dad. And then the lady said she would finally get the big house all to herself."
A collective, sharp intake of breath swept through the engagement guests. The room descended into absolute, deafening silence. A plot to murder the Don, orchestrated by his own cousin and his fiancée, had just been laid bare by a three-year-old child in the middle of a sunlit reception hall.
