Chapter 5 - The Wrath of the Syndicate
Elena’s face drained of color in a fraction of a second. The haughty, predatory smirk vanished, replaced by a sudden, frantic panic.
“M-Matteo!” Elena stammered, stepping back from Liana and smoothing down her designer skirt with trembling fingers. “Thank goodness you’re home! I was just... I was just testing the domestic staff, checking on the boy’s security! This woman, she’s a complete unknown—!”
Matteo didn't shout. He didn't raise his voice an inch. He simply walked into the kitchen, his heavy footsteps echoing against the tile floor like hammer blows on an anvil.
He stopped two feet away from his cousin, looking down at her with an expression so utterly devoid of mercy that Elena instinctively took another step backward until her spine hit the kitchen island.
“You broke the primary rule of this house, Elena,” Matteo said, his voice a smooth, lethal hiss. “You entered the west wing uninvited. You threatened a member of my household. And you insulted the woman who holds my son’s life in her hands.”
“Matteo, please!” Elena cried out, her voice cracking as panic finally took full control. “We’re family! I was only looking out for the Varric name! That tramp is nothing—!”
“She is everything you are not,” Matteo interrupted, his hand moving with blinding speed.
He didn't strike her. Instead, he reached out and grabbed Elena by the collar of her expensive designer jacket, lifting her slightly off her feet with effortless, terrifying strength.
“Marcus!” Matteo bellowed toward the hallway.
The head of security appeared in the doorway instantly, his face pale.
“Boss?”
“Escort Miss Varric off the property,” Matteo commanded, his eyes locked onto his terrified cousin. “Freeze all her corporate accounts, revoke her access credentials to every Varric holding on the eastern seaboard, and if she ever sets foot within ten miles of these iron gates again... you don't call me. You put a bullet in her tire.”
“Matteo, you can’t do this! I’m a Varric!” Elena shrieked as Marcus and another guard grabbed her arms, dragging her screaming toward the foyer. “You’re ruining our family over a maid! You’ll regret this!”
The heavy oak doors slammed shut behind her, cutting off her shrieks and plunging the kitchen back into a heavy, suffocating silence.
Matteo released a slow, controlled breath, letting his shoulders drop slightly before turning around to face Liana.
Liana stood motionless beside the counter, her hands trembling slightly as she looked down at the shattered glass and spilled milk on the floor. The raw cruelty of Elena’s words had torn open the scar tissue around her grief, reminding her of the cruel, fragile reality of her position.
Matteo walked over to her. He didn't speak. He simply reached out, his large, warm hands gently gripping her shoulders, drawing her away from the broken glass.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice softening into a raw, gravelly whisper that bore no resemblance to the man who had just banished his own cousin.
Liana looked up into his slate-gray eyes, tears finally spilling over her lashes and tracking down her cheeks.
“She was right, you know,” Liana whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m just a homeless stray you picked off the street. I’m a mother whose milk is keeping your son alive, but I couldn't even save my own baby. Why are you doing this, Matteo? Why risk your family, your empire, for someone like me?”
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Matteo didn't hesitate. He pulled her forward, wrapping his strong, protective arms around her and pressing her head against his solid, unyielding chest.
“Because,” Matteo murmured into her hair, his voice fierce and absolute, “before you walked through my gates, this house was a tomb. You didn't just save my son, Liana... you brought the dead back to life inside me. And anyone who tries to take you away from here answers to me.”
