Chapter 8
The beautiful housemaid was watching him, her exhausted eyes drawn together in quiet empathy. She had endured psychological torture and the threat of her mother's murder simply because she carried his child. The fierce, gentle loyalty she had displayed in trying to protect the baby was a rare, precious commodity in Mason's dark, violent world.
"Vincent," Mason called out over his shoulder, not breaking eye contact with Lila.
"Yes, Boss," Vincent replied, stepping forward from the archway.
"Dispatch a heavily armed medical transport to the care facility immediately. Secure Lila's mother and move her to the private clinic on the estate grounds. No one enters her room without my personal authorization."
Lila’s breath hitched violently. The magnitude of the order, and the absolute safety it provided her mother, was overwhelming. The warm, golden light of the chandeliers caught the fresh tears welling in her expressive eyes, this time born of absolute relief.
"Thank you, Mason," Lila whispered, the formality dropping away in the raw intimacy of the moment.
"You have nothing to thank me for," Mason replied, his voice a low, gravelly rumble laced with profound affection. He stepped closer, his imposing frame casting a protective shadow over her trembling figure. "I should have seen what was happening. I should have protected you."
"She threatened to kill my mother if I told you," Lila confessed softly, looking down at her rumpled apron. "I didn't know what else to do."
"You are no longer a maid in this house," Mason stated, reaching out to gently tilt her chin up with his artistically tattooed fingers. "From this moment forward, you answer to no one but me. You will move into the secure wing tonight with Piper. You and our child will never be threatened again."
Lila leaned into his touch, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs, but this time not with fear.
Before Mason could speak again, his encrypted smartphone vibrated intensely in his pocket. He pulled it out, his dark eyes scanning the message flashing across the screen. The brief moment of tenderness evaporated, replaced instantly by the cold, calculating focus of a military commander.
"Is the perimeter breached?" Vincent asked, reading the sudden shift in his boss's posture, his hand already reaching for the concealed weapon beneath his vest.
"Not yet," Mason replied, pocketing the phone. "But the Shaw syndicate has mobilized. Camille's father knows she has been detained. He is sending a strike force to the front gates."
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Mason looked back at Lila, his cold, perceptive eyes burning with an unyielding, protective fire.
"Shall we show them exactly what it costs to threaten my family?" Mason asked the quiet room, racking the slide of his handgun with a sharp, metallic clatter as the estate's high-pitched security sirens began to wail.
