Chapter 7
The sprawling mansion was a hive of quiet, lethal activity as Elliot carried his frail wife up the sweeping marble staircase. The bright, luminous glow of the first floor gave way to the softer, more muted lighting of the private master wing. The warm golden hues of the wall sconces guided them past gilded mirrors and heavy silk curtains, leading them to the massive oak doors of Elliot’s personal suite.
He gently laid Helena down on the plush, king-sized bed, pulling the thick, expensive duvet up to her chin. The roaring marble fireplace in the corner of the room immediately began to cast a healing, elegant warmth over her pale skin.
Cora hurried into the adjoining master bathroom, retrieving warm, damp towels and a glass of fresh water. She worked with quiet, sophisticated efficiency, wiping the soot and grime from Helena's face and hands, helping her drink small, measured sips.
"Thank you, Cora," Helena whispered, her voice raspy but filled with immense gratitude. "You saved my life."
"I just did what was right, ma'am," Cora replied, her softly oval face flushing a delicate pink.
Elliot stood near the fireplace, watching the interaction in silence. He had removed his suit jacket and unbuttoned his waistcoat, looking slightly less formal but infinitely more dangerous. The loose strands of dark hair fell over his forehead, and his powerful shoulders leaned casually against the carved marble.
"Will you fetch the doctor immediately, Marcus?" Elliot asked his lieutenant, who stood at attention in the doorway.
"He is already on his way up the stairs, Boss," Marcus reported, stepping aside to allow an older man with a black medical bag into the room.
The doctor moved quickly to the bed, beginning a thorough examination of Helena. Elliot watched for a moment before turning his cold, perceptive eyes back to Marcus.
"Are our borders secured?" Elliot asked, stepping out into the hallway to speak privately with his underboss.
"Yes, Mr. Crowne," Marcus nodded, his American accent crisp. "The entire estate is locked down. The guests have been cleared. But the Shaw family will notice Viviana is missing by morning. Arthur Shaw isn't going to wait for an explanation. This means full-scale war."
"Do the Shaws believe they can survive my wrath after harboring the woman who imprisoned my wife?" Elliot asked, his deeply observant eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
"They have numbers, Boss. They control the western territories," Marcus warned.
"Are the weapons primed in the armory?" Elliot asked, adjusting his wristwatch with a calm, terrifying precision.
"Fully loaded and distributed to the men, sir."
"Will you ensure the perimeter is fortified with heavy artillery before dawn?" Elliot asked.
"Consider it done," Marcus bowed his head respectfully and hurried down the hall.
Elliot stepped back into the master suite. The doctor was finishing his examination, administering intravenous fluids to Helena.
"Will she recover, Doctor?" Elliot asked.
"She is severely malnourished and dehydrated, but her vitals are stabilizing," the doctor answered. "With proper rest and nutrition, she will make a full recovery, sir."
Elliot nodded, a profound relief washing over his angular face. The doctor packed his bag and quietly exited the room.
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Elliot walked over to the bed, looking down at Cora. The beautiful housemaid was still kneeling by the mattress, holding Helena's fragile hand.
"Are you aware of the danger you have just invited into your life, Cora?" Elliot asked, his deep voice a low, mesmerizing rumble.
