Chapter 3 - The Caldwell Debt
Back in the cemetery, the fog seemed to press closer, suffocating the space between Vanessa Caldwell and Damon Cross.
Vanessa’s lips trembled. The fierce, entitled aristocrat of two minutes ago had vanished, replaced by a terrified young woman realizing she had stepped off a cliff.
"D-Damon," Vanessa stammered, her voice losing all its prior venom. "I didn't... I had no idea she was connected to you. She’s just a maid. Caleb hired her agency—"
"Your husband's indiscretions and business failures are of very little interest to me," Damon interrupted, his voice dropping an octave, turning cold enough to freeze blood. "What is of interest is that you assaulted a woman under my direct protection. On hallowed ground, no less."
"Protection?" Vanessa’s eyes darted wildly between Damon and Elena. "She’s carrying a bastard child! The whole city is talking about Caleb’s affairs, and she—"
"She is carrying my child," Damon stated flatly.
The words dropped into the morning air like a lead weight.
Elena gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes widening in disbelief as she stared up at him. Your child? Her mind raced back to that snowy night in the North End lounge, the hours spent talking in the dark, the warmth that had momentarily chased away the biting cold of her mother's impending death. That single night had rewritten her entire existence, though she had never expected to see him again, let alone hear him claim her and her unborn baby in front of Boston's most elite heiress.
Vanessa staggered back, tripping slightly on her high heel before catching herself against a marble tombstone. "Your... your child? But she works for—she's a servant!"
"My personal affairs are none of your concern," Damon said, signaling slightly with two fingers.
Instantly, two of the large men from the SUVs stepped forward, effectively cutting off Vanessa's escape route.
"Tell your father," Damon continued, stepping closer to Vanessa until she was forced to look up into his impenetrable gaze, "that his municipal zoning permits for the downtown waterfront development are officially revoked, effective immediately. Consider it a minor tax for your wife's lack of manners."
"You can't do that!" Vanessa shrieked, panic finally breaking through her shock. "My father is a United States Senator! He’ll—"
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"He’ll call me by noon tomorrow to apologize and ask how he can make amends," Damon cut her off smoothly. "Now, get in your car and leave before I decide to take your husband's shipping firm apart piece by piece."
Without another word, Vanessa turned and fled toward her parked luxury sedan, her heels clicking frantically against the paved path, tears of absolute humiliation streaming down her face.
