Chapter 38
On the private terrace garden of one of the city's top hotels, a crisp white parasol shielded a handful of ladies from the afternoon sun.
A small, exclusive high tea was underway. The delicate clink of porcelain cups against saucers punctuated their hushed conversation, the air a heady mix of expensive, competing perfumes.
Samantha Smith, naturally, was one of the focal points, basking in the glow of her family name.
But the true center of gravity today was someone else entirely—Lilith Moretti.
She hailed from the Moretti family, one of the three major Mafia dynasties. With a cascade of thick, dark chestnut curls, honey-toned skin, and features that were both striking and audacious, her personality was a perfect match for her looks: innately arrogant and fiercely passionate.
Lilith loved Jacob. In their circles, it was an open secret.
From their backgrounds and looks to their shared, forceful nature, many considered them a perfect match. A union between them would reshape the entire power structure of the city.
Lilith herself had always believed it. She saw Jacob as a man who was destined to be hers, just waiting for the right moment.
Until Elizabeth appeared. A stone tossed into still waters, creating a tidal wave that rocked their world.
"Samantha, I hear Jacob has someone new in his life?" Lilith lifted her teacup, stirring it with a silver spoon. Her tone was deceptively casual, but the displeasure was unmistakable. She'd orchestrated this little gathering for the sole purpose of prying information from Samantha.
The other women immediately perked up, exchanging subtle, knowing glances. A man as powerful and magnetic as Jacob was a prize every woman coveted, especially now. With his father gone, he wasn't just an heir anymore; he was the Don, holding all the cards.
If he wasn't going to marry the well-matched Lilith, then why not one of them? The thought that some slut like Elizabeth had gotten her claws into him was infuriating.
A smirk threatened to pull at Samantha's lips, but she suppressed it. This was the moment she'd been waiting for.
She arranged her features into a mask of frustration and helplessness, as if she'd been bottling this up for ages.
"Ugh, don't even get me started, Lilith," Samantha sighed, setting down her petit four. "I can't stand Elizabeth. But God knows what kind of tricks that bitch used. Jacob's actually talking about marrying her!"
Watching Lilith's expression darken, she pushed further. "I don't know what's gotten into him! He actually agreed! He even moved her into the house! Last night, I saw her coming out of his study, and the way she looked..."
She paused, letting the implication hang in the air, thick and suggestive. Then, with a performance of wide-eyed indignation, she delivered the final blow. "Jacob never lets anyone into his private spaces. I'm not even allowed in his bedroom! But last night, just because I 'accidentally' spilled something on Elizabeth's sheets, he had her sleep in his own room! His! Can you believe how insane that is?"
Samantha's words hit Lilith exactly where she knew it would hurt most.
The study. The bedroom. Staying the night. These were breaches of deeply personal territory, symbols of an extraordinary level of intimacy and indulgence.
Lilith's fingers tightened around her teacup, her knuckles turning white. She had held onto the hope that this engagement was just a transaction, that Jacob felt nothing for his fiancée. But the details Samantha was spilling painted a picture that made her heart sink, heavy as lead.
"And that's not all," Samantha pressed on, sensing she had an ally. "That weird little boy of his, the one who doesn't talk to anyone? He's completely attached to her! And at Mr. Parker's gala, Jacob made a huge scene because someone said something bad about her. He completely lost his cool. Jacob never loses his composure for a woman!"
Lilith's face was now a thundercloud of fury. Jealousy and the raw humiliation of being usurped churned in her gut. Jacob was the man she wanted, her future husband, and now he was being snatched away and defended so fiercely by some cheap whore with a reputation.
"Shameless bitch," Lilith finally spat, her voice low but laced with pure hatred. She wasn't just angry; she was reacting like a woman whose territory had been invaded by a rival. "God knows what dirty tricks she pulled. Mr. Smith is just temporarily fooled by her act."
She locked eyes with Samantha, her tone shifting to one of commanding intimacy. "Samantha, keep a close eye on things. Let me know the second anything happens. A woman like Elizabeth is a disease. Leaving her by Mr. Smith's side is a disaster waiting to happen. We need to do something. We can't let her have her way for long."
Samantha glowed with inner triumph and nodded eagerly. "Don't worry, Lilith. I'm on your side. I can't stand the sight of her. I'll watch her like a hawk for you."
The other women, sensing the power shift, chimed in with their own murmurs of agreement.
Lilith had lost all interest in her tea. Her mind was already racing, plotting how to deal with the sudden appearance of Elizabeth.
And Samantha, savoring the sweet taste of victory, felt a thrill of pure pleasure. She had successfully sicced a powerful and dangerous enemy on Elizabeth.
Your lucky streak was about to end, Elizabeth.
Lilith Moretti was nothing like that idiot Vivian.
Samantha could almost picture Elizabeth's downfall, her pathetic, broken form. The thought was so delicious, she happily took another macaron.
In Jacob's study, a concise report lay on his desk. It was from one of his eyes and ears in the city's social circles.
The summary detailed the afternoon's tea party, highlighting Lilith Moretti's declared hostility toward Elizabeth and her likely intent to take action.
Lilith Moretti.
He knew of her, of course. A troublesome, self-important woman with the full weight of the Moretti family behind her. He had no interest in her, but he also had no desire for a direct conflict with the Morettis right now.
Now, this woman was targeting Elizabeth. While he didn't necessarily think Elizabeth would be at a disadvantage, it was prudent to give her a heads-up. It would prevent her from being caught off guard, causing unnecessary trouble, or worse, disrupting his own plans.
"Get Elizabeth," he ordered Leon.
A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the study door.
Elizabeth had just been fiddling with the new camera, trying to figure out its functions. The summons from Jacob sent a familiar chill down her spine. What now?
"Come in."
Elizabeth pushed the door open and walked to his desk. "Mr. Smith. You wanted to see me?"
Jacob's eyes lifted, his gaze settling on her. She was still in the cream-colored turtleneck from the morning, the collar sitting high and prim, accentuating the elegant line of her neck.
He noted that, out of habit, she had pulled the heavy study door shut behind her.