Chapter 6
The profound, ringing silence of the grand dining room settled heavily over the remaining three figures. The cascading crystal chandeliers continued to cast their warm golden light over the abandoned gold-rimmed porcelain and half-empty crystal wine glasses. The opulent space, designed for celebration, now felt like a war room.
Julian stood silently for a moment, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a slow, controlled breath. The betrayal was absolute, the upcoming syndicate war with Seraphine’s father inevitable, but the immediate, toxic sickness within his home had been surgically removed. Now, he had to secure his mother.
He turned his body, his polished leather shoes pivoting seamlessly on the thick rug, and walked toward the two figures remaining by the open grille.
Lena was kneeling on the floor, holding Eleanor tightly in her arms. The sophisticated black maid dress contrasted sharply with the older woman’s worn cardigan. Lena was gently stroking Eleanor's thin hair, her softly oval face etched with deep, maternal relief.
Julian stopped beside them, his imposing, masculine frame casting a protective shadow over the housemaid and his mother.
"Are you unharmed, Mother?" Julian asked, crouching down beside the older woman.
Eleanor turned her head, her fair, rosy cheeks pale and gaunt. She looked at the towering mafia boss, her eyes searching for reassurance. "I'm weak, Julian. But I am alive. She thought she could break me with lies about your death."
"Would I ever allow someone who threatens our family to break you in this house?" Julian asked, reaching out to gently clasp his mother's shoulder.
Eleanor managed a weak smile, leaning into her son's large, tattooed hand. "No."
Julian shifted his gaze to Lena. The beautiful housemaid was watching him, her expressive brows drawn together in quiet empathy. She had risked her job, her physical safety, and her life by opening that grille and standing against the fiancée of a mafia boss. The fierce loyalty she had displayed was a rare, precious commodity in Julian's dark, violent world, deepening the quiet mutual affection they already shared.
"Are you injured, Lena?" Julian asked, his cold, perceptive eyes scanning her delicate features.
"No, Mr. Vale," Lena answered softly, her elegant posture unwavering even as she knelt on the floor. "I am perfectly fine."
"Will you help me carry her up to the secure wing and stay with her until the doctor arrives?" Julian asked, holding her gaze with an intensity that sent a sudden, warm flutter through Lena’s chest.
"Yes, Mr. Vale," Lena replied, her rosy cheeks flushing slightly under his intense focus.
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Julian stood up, sliding one powerful arm behind his mother's back and lifting the frail woman effortlessly. The impending war with the Voss syndicate loomed over him, but for the first time in six months, his house finally felt like a home again.
"Shall we prepare for what comes next?" Julian asked the empty room, turning to begin his preparations for absolute war.
