Chapter 1 - The Weight of the Jacket
The heavy, warm wool of Daniel Carver’s charcoal jacket felt like a shield against the forty pairs of eyes boring into my back. The sharp scent of his expensive cologne—sandalwood and winter rain—filled my senses, grounding me as my knees threatened to give out completely.
"Can you walk?" Daniel’s voice was a low rumble against the tense silence of the ballroom.
"I... I think so," I whispered, clutching the lapels of his jacket tightly over the prominent curve of my seven-month-pregnant belly. Another sharp contraction rippled across my abdomen, tighter this time. I gasped, my fingers digging into his forearm for support.
Daniel didn't hesitate. He scooped me up into his arms, ignoring the collective gasp that echoed through the crystal-lit room.
"Daniel!" Claire Whitlock stepped forward, her expensive diamond bracelet clinking violently as her hands shook with rage. Her face was flushed an ugly, blotched red. "You are carrying the maid. In front of my father. In front of the board. Have you completely lost your mind? She was being disrespectful to your future wife!"
Daniel stopped at the base of the grand staircase. He didn't turn around to face her, but his profile hardened into a terrifying mask of pure stone.
"Marcus," Daniel called out softly.
From the shadows near the entrance, a burly man in a tailored black suit stepped forward. Marcus was Daniel’s right-hand man, a shadow who handled the things the law couldn't touch. "Yes, Boss?"
"The engagement party is over," Daniel commanded, his voice slicing through the room like a cold blade. "Clear the mansion. Escort Mr. Whitlock and his daughter to their vehicles first. If Claire is still on my property in five minutes, consider it a trespass against the family."
"You can't do this!" Claire’s father, a powerful shipping magnate named Richard Whitlock, slammed his champagne glass onto a silver tray, shattering it. "Carver, our families have a treaty! My shipping lines move your cargo! You need the Whitlock name to secure the union votes next month!"
"I don't need anything from a man who raises a bully, Richard," Daniel replied coldly. He began marching up the stairs, carrying me effortlessly. "The treaty is officially under review. Marcus, remove them."
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As Daniel carried me through the heavy double doors of the master wing, away from the shouting and the sudden, chaotic emptying of the ballroom, the pain in my stomach intensified. I closed my eyes, terrified for the baby.
I had entered this mansion to find out who killed my husband, Aaron, and where my brother, Caleb, had disappeared to. I had expected to find a monster in Daniel Carver. But as he gently laid me down on the plush velvet sofa of his private study and yelled for the estate doctor, I realized the biggest secret in this house wasn't hidden in the walls—it was hidden in the man holding my hand.
