Chapter 3 - The Nanny’s Oath
The sheer pressure of Victor Blackwood’s attention felt like a physical weight pressing down on Lily’s shoulders, threatening to force her back onto the cold stone.
She swallowed hard, tasting copper and dust, and forced her chin up to meet the terrifying, obsidian gaze of the most feared man in Illinois.
"She’s lying," Lily repeated, her voice steadying despite the agony tearing through her ribs.
"She didn't just find us here, Mr. Blackwood. She did this. She grabbed his arm... she dragged him across the floor like a broken toy... and when I tried to stop her, she drove her heel into my stomach."
Serena let out a sharp, theatrical gasp of utter disbelief, her hands flying to her chest in a gesture of profound betrayal.
"Victor, are you seriously listening to this insane, hysterical liar?!" Serena shrieked, her voice rising an octave as panic began to genuinely fracture her composure.
"She’s clearly unhinged! Look at her! She’s trying to shift the blame because she dropped the baby and is terrified of losing her job!"
"Shut up, Serena," Victor said.
It wasn't a shout.
It was a soft, quiet command, spoken barely above a whisper, yet the razor-sharp edge in his tone made Serena snap her mouth shut instantly as if she had been physically struck.
Victor did not look at Serena.
His eyes remained locked onto Lily, studying her face, reading every micro-expression, every tremor, every ounce of raw, unedited terror and fierce protective instinct etched into her features.
He knew his son.
He knew the boy’s habits, his cries, and the people who truly cared for him.
And more importantly, Victor Blackwood possessed an instinct for deceit that had kept him alive at the top of the Chicago syndicate for over two decades.
Slowly, deliberately, Victor bypassed Serena entirely, walking past his wailing, injured son without breaking stride, and dropped heavily onto one knee directly in front of Lily.
Up close, the mafia boss was towering, intimidating, and radiating an aura of lethal, coiled violence that made Lily’s breath catch in her throat.
Yet, when he reached out, his massive, calloused hand didn't strike her.
Instead, his fingers brushed gently against her bruised jawline, tilting her face upward so the harsh overhead light illuminated every mark, every scratch, and every tear.
"Look me in the eye, girl," Victor commanded, his voice dropping into a low, hypnotic register that brooked zero falsehoods.
"Tell me everything that happened in this foyer from the second you walked through that door today. If I find a single syllable of fabrication in your mouth, I will personally throw you into the Chicago River with your ankles tied to a concrete block. Do you understand me?"
"I understand," Lily whispered, her voice unwavering as she stared unflinchingly into the dark abyss of his eyes.
"Every word I said is the absolute truth, Mr. Blackwood. Check the security system."
The moment those words left Lily’s lips, the color drained entirely from Serena Montigue’s face, leaving her looking like a porcelain doll that had been bleached in a vat of acid.
"The... the security cameras in the foyer were disabled for maintenance this morning!" Serena blurted out too quickly, her voice pitching up in frantic desperation.
"You remember, darling! The IT department sent an email yesterday about system upgrades!"
Victor slowly rose to his feet, turning his massive frame around to face his fiancée.
His obsidian eyes were completely devoid of human emotion now, looking at Serena not as the woman he was scheduled to marry in three months, but as a condemned prisoner standing before the gallows.
"Serena," Victor said softly, the silence in the room stretching until it felt like a taut wire ready to snap.
"The foyer cameras were never disabled. I had them upgraded to military-grade encrypted lenses last month, routed directly to a private, off-site server that only I can access."
Serena staggered backward, her high heel catching slightly on the edge of the marble tile, nearly sending her crashing to the floor.
"Victor... you... you don't trust me?" she whispered, her voice trembling with genuine, unadulterated terror as she realized the inescapable trap she had walked into.
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"Trust is earned, Serena," Victor replied, his voice chillingly flat.
"And right now, my son is lying on the floor with a broken arm, and my employee is bleeding on my carpet."
