They quickly shook their heads and hurried out. Within moments, the expansive dining room was entirely empty, leaving only the three figures at the head table bathed in the glow of the ivory candles.
Daphne’s satin gown rustled as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, suddenly realizing how entirely alone she was.
“Silas, darling, you are completely overreacting,” Daphne stammered, her hands fluttering over the polished silverware. “She is just a housemaid. Why are you causing a scene in front of our associates over a simple haircut?”
“Did you truly believe you could desecrate this woman in my home and demand my silence?” Silas asked, his tone dropping a lethal octave.
“It was just hair!” Daphne shot back, her defensive anger flaring as her rosy skin flushed an ugly red. “She was flaunting it! It is completely inappropriate for a servant to parade around trying to catch the eye of her employer! I was doing this household a favor by putting her in her place!”
Nora let out a quiet, heartbroken sob. She tried to step backward, wanting nothing more than to retreat to the shadows of the servant’s quarters, but Silas gently extended a tattooed hand to block her retreat, keeping her safely by his side.
“Do you think I am blind to the cruelty masquerading as your twisted sense of etiquette, Daphne?” Silas asked, leaning slightly forward, casting a shadow over Daphne’s diamond earrings.
“I am your fiancée!” Daphne shrieked, her voice losing all its refined polish. “You are humiliating me in front of our families over a servant! She was trying to make you look at her! She uses her delicate little features to get your attention!”
“Is your insecurity so profound that you feel threatened by the mere presence of a gentle woman?” Silas asked, his eyes narrowing into cold slits.
“I demand respect!” Daphne cried, slamming her manicured hand onto the walnut table.
“Have you ever considered that respect is earned through basic human decency, rather than a satin dress and a title?” Silas asked, his broad shoulders squaring as he looked down at the woman he was supposed to marry.
The ambient glow of the candles flickered against the polished crystal, offering a soft elegance that starkly contrasted with the viciousness of Daphne’s actions. Nora’s breathing was shallow and uneven, her delicate features pale with residual shock. The violent assault in the parlor earlier that afternoon had shattered her sense of safety in the mansion, and the jagged edges of her hair brushing against her neck were a constant, agonizing reminder.
Silas turned his body slightly, placing himself between Daphne and the trembling maid.
“Would you care to explain exactly how you managed to restrain her, Daphne?” Silas asked, his deep voice leaving absolutely no room for negotiation or lies.
Daphne gasped, clutching her satin gown against her chest. “You wouldn’t dare interrogate me like this. My father is Marcus Whitmore! We are a strategic alliance, Silas! You cannot treat me like one of your street soldiers!”
“Do you believe your father’s name serves as a shield against my wrath inside my own mansion?” Silas asked, taking a slow, deliberate step around the carved walnut chair to close the distance between them.
Realizing the absolute danger radiating from his angular face, Daphne’s bravado began to crack. “She wouldn’t sit still! I had my guards hold her down in the parlor! She was crying and thrashing like an animal, making a massive mess on the rugs!”
Nora covered her face with her hands, the humiliating memory flooding back. “I didn’t do anything to you,” she wept, her voice muffled. “I only brought you your tea.”
“Did you feel powerful while your men held a helpless woman down so you could butcher her hair with fabric shears?” Silas asked, his dark eyes completely devoid of mercy or warmth.
“She deserved it!” Daphne spat, her diamond earrings swinging wildly as she stood up. “She is trying to steal you, Silas! I see the way you look at her! You never look at me with that quiet affection! I had to strip her of her vanity so you would finally see her for the peasant she is!”
“Is destroying another person’s dignity the best strategy you could devise to win a man’s loyalty?” Silas asked, stepping so close to Daphne that she was forced to lean back over the table.
“I did it for us!” Daphne insisted, tears of frustration ruining her immaculate makeup. “We are getting married next month! You cannot spend your evenings watching a maid pour your water when I am sitting right next to you!”
“Does an arranged political marriage grant you ownership over my eyes and my household staff, Daphne?” Silas asked, his voice vibrating with a terrifying calm.
