Chapter 17
The following morning, the estate had been completely sanitized. The bodies were gone, the blood was washed away, and the bright, cinematic sunlight poured through the crystal chandeliers of the dining room as if the violence of the previous night had never occurred. Audrey sat at the massive mahogany table, wearing an elegant, tailored day dress. She was no longer wearing the black and white maid's uniform, and she was no longer relegated to the shadows. She sat proudly in the chair to Tristan’s left—the chair that had once belonged to Veronica. Maisie sat happily between them, eating a plate of pancakes, completely oblivious to the slaughter that had secured their peace. Tristan sat at the head of the table, dressed in a flawless, dark three-piece suit. He looked at Audrey, offering a rare, genuine smile. The dark, sociopathic energy that defined his professional life was entirely absent in this room. "The Shaw syndicate has offered an unconditional surrender," Tristan announced quietly, pouring a cup of coffee. "They were terrified by the total annihilation of their strike team. They are ceding their western supply lines to our holding company as a penalty." "So the war is over?" Audrey asked softly, her expressive brows lifting. "The war is won," Tristan corrected smoothly. He reached under the table, his artistic, tattooed hand gently wrapping around her fingers. "The borders are secure. No one will ever threaten this house again." Audrey smiled, squeezing his hand. She looked around the opulent, bright dining room. She had walked in a terrified servant, and she had emerged as the undisputed queen of a vast, invincible empire.
