Chapter 6 - Blood and Slander
The news hit Greyhaven like an explosion.
By Tuesday afternoon, the town square was buzzing with venomous rumors. The curvy, barren baker had snagged the mountain king. Victoria Sterling’s father, the town council chairman, publicly questioned Vincent Vance’s mental stability, while gossips whispered that Claire must have used old witchcraft or cheap seduction to trap the widower.
Claire kept her head down and worked. She kneaded dough until her shoulders burned, ignoring the sharp glares through her bakery display window.
At three in the afternoon, the front bell jangled violently.
Victoria Sterling marched in, accompanied by her wealthy mother and Donald—Claire’s former fiancé. Donald looked uncomfortable, but his pride was clearly wounded.
“You think you’re clever, don’t you, Claire?” Victoria spat, slamming her leather purse on the glass counter. “You wormed your way into his house with bread and nursery tricks. But let me tell you something—men like Vincent Vance don’t keep women like you. You’re a temporary toy. A fat, barren peasant he’s using to embarrass our families.”
Donald stepped forward, crossing his arms with smug superiority. “Claire, be sensible. You’re making a fool of yourself. Everyone knows you’re desperate because I left you, but Vincent Vance is dangerous. He’s tied to criminal syndicates in Chicago. When he gets tired of your fat hips and your empty womb, he’ll throw you out on the street.”
Claire’s hands trembled, not from fear, but from a rage she had swallowed for three long years. She opened her mouth to order them out, but a cold shadow fell over the bakery doorway.
The brass bell didn’t jangle—it shattered as the heavy door was thrust open with terrifying force.
Vincent Vance walked in.
He wasn’t wearing his domestic sweater. He was dressed in a tailored midnight-black overcoat, leather gloves, and a presence so suffocatingly lethal that Donald immediately stepped backward into a rack of baguettes.
Behind Vincent, two massive, stone-faced men in dark suits blocked the entrance.
Vincent walked straight to Claire’s side, ignoring the others entirely. He placed a heavy, warm hand on the small of her back—possessive, firm, and protective.
“Are they bothering you, Claire?” he asked quietly.
Claire looked at him, feeling the solid, unbreakable wall of his strength behind her. “They were just leaving, Vincent.”
Vincent turned his head slowly, his eyes locking onto Donald. “You must be the hardware merchant.”
Donald swallowed hard, his face turning pale green. “M-Mr. Vance... we were just warning her... as concerned neighbors...”
Vincent took one slow step forward. The air in the bakery turned freezing. “If your mouth ever speaks my fiancée’s name again, Donald, I will buy your shop by sunset, burn it to the ground by midnight, and bury you in the ash. Am I making myself entirely clear?”
Donald choked on his breath, nodding violently.
Vincent then turned his gaze to Victoria and her mother. “And as for the Sterling family—your father’s municipal contracts with the mountain lumber mill are officially terminated. You wanted society manners? Learn how to survive the winter without my money.”
“You can’t do that!” Victoria shrieked.
May you like
“I own the mountain,” Vincent said with chilled finality. “Now get out of my woman’s shop.”
***
