Chapter 5 - The Stripping of the Crown
The silence in the penthouse was absolute.
Sienna sat on the marble step, her head bowed, her expensive dress ruined, looking smaller and more pathetic than Mara had ever looked in her three years of domestic service.
Dante walked over to her slowly. He stopped two feet away, looking down at her with cold, empty eyes.
"Get up, Sienna," Dante ordered quietly.
Sienna looked up at him, her lips quivering. "Dante... please. I didn't know. I swear on my life I didn't know what my father was doing! I love you... I wanted to be your wife..."
"You didn't want to be my wife," Dante said, his voice dropping into an icy register. "You wanted to be Mrs. Dante Marcel. You wanted the penthouse, the driver, the society pages, and the power. You treated the people who built this house like garbage, while your own family was preparing to put a bullet in my head."
Sienna squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down her cheeks. "What... what are you going to do to me?"
"I am not going to hurt you, Sienna," Dante said. "I am not a monster. But you are leaving this house tonight. Your father's assets have been seized. Your trust fund is frozen by the federal government. You have nothing left."
He reached down, taking her trembling left hand in his large palm.
Slowly, deliberately, Dante pulled the massive, cushion-cut diamond ring off her finger—the billion-dollar ring that had arrived in the velvet case less than a week ago.
Sienna sobbed loudly, pulling her hand back as if she had been burned, but she didn't dare fight him.
"Marcus has a car waiting downstairs," Dante said coldly, turning his back on her. "It will take you to your mother's apartment in Queens. Do not ever come back to this building."
Sienna stood up slowly, clutching her ruined silk gown around her body. She looked at Dante, then turned her bitter, hatred-filled eyes toward Mara.
"You..." Sienna spat, her voice trembling with venom. "You planned this, didn't you? You plain, disgusting little servant... you set us up!"
Mara looked at Sienna. For three years, she had taken Sienna’s insults, endured her cruelty, and cleaned up her trash without a single word of defiance.
Now, Mara stepped forward, standing tall, her head held high, looking down at Sienna with a power that made Sienna instinctively take a step back.
"I didn't set you up, Sienna," Mara said, her voice clear, calm, and utterly dominant. "You destroyed yourself. You were so busy looking at your own reflection that you never noticed the floor beneath your feet was rotting away. Now get out of my sight before I have Marcus throw you into the rain."
Sienna gasped, shocked to her core by the sheer authority in the former housekeeper's voice. Realizing she had lost everything, she turned around and ran out of the ballroom, her high heels clicking loudly until the heavy doors slammed shut behind her.
The room fell completely quiet.
Mara took a deep breath, letting the adrenaline of the night slowly drain from her muscles. She looked around at the broken glass, the shattered mirrors, and the blood on the marble floor.
"I should get the cleaning crew," Mara murmured habitably, turning toward the service door. "It's going to take until morning to clear the floor—"
Before she could take a second step, Dante’s large hand reached out, wrapping around her wrist.
His grip was firm, warm, and possessive.
May you like
He pulled her back toward him gently, forcing her to turn around and face him.
"You are never picking up a mop in this house again, Mara," Dante whispered, his dark eyes burning into hers with a intense, terrifying passion.
