Chapter 8 - The Empire Crumbles
"Damian, please!" Eleanor sobbed, falling backward until her back hit the thick trunk of an ancient oak tree. The crystal chandelier above cast harsh shadows over her terrified, pale face. "She's crazy! I don't even know who that child is!"
"You burned my wife alive," Damian whispered.
His voice was deadly quiet, but it echoed across the silent, terrified garden with the force of a bomb.
"You burned your own daughter alive so you could liquidate my family's trust fund," Damian continued, his jaw locked in pure, unfiltered rage. "And you locked my blood in a basement to starve."
"No! I swear to God!" Eleanor cried, clasping her hands together in a pathetic, desperate plea. "I loved my daughter!"
"My men have spent three years tearing this city apart trying to find out who ordered the arson," Damian said coldly. He took another step, trapping her completely. "I never suspected you. I thought a mother could never commit such an atrocity. But the proof is standing right behind me. She has her mother's eyes, Eleanor. And she recognizes her torturer perfectly."
The wealthy guests in the crowd gasped in absolute horror. The elite socialites who had praised Eleanor's elegance all evening now looked at her with profound, venomous disgust. The illusion of the grieving mother was completely destroyed, replaced by the ugly reality of a murderous, greedy monster.
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"Take everything from her," Damian ordered smoothly, not looking away from his prey.
👉 The mafia boss passed his judgment, and Eleanor's ultimate punishment was about to be swiftly enforced.
