“She disrespected me.” Victoria’s voice climbed higher, thinner. “She ruined my dress in front of everyone—”
Alessandro glanced at the faint stain. Then at Mara, who still had not moved, who still had not breathed properly.
“Did she?” he asked.
“It was my mistake, sir,” Mara whispered. “I’m sorry.”
Victoria seized on it. “You see? She admits it. That dress cost more than she earns in a year—”
Alessandro looked down at the riding crop in his hand. He turned it once, slowly, the way a man might examine a weapon he was deciding whether to keep. Then his fingers closed — and the crop snapped in two with a crack that made Mara flinch and two servants gasp out loud.
He let the broken pieces fall to the marble floor.
Nobody breathed.
“You will never raise that against anyone in this house again,” he said, each word placed like a stone.
Victoria stared at him, disbelief warring with humiliation on her face. “You’re defending a servant?”
“No,” Alessandro said, his voice dropping even lower. “I’m correcting you.”
The Question No One Expected
Alessandro turned to Mara. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
His gaze didn’t move. “Look at me.”
Mara hesitated. Two years of training screamed at her to keep her eyes down. But something in his tone wasn’t a command — it was closer to a request.
She lifted her eyes.