Chapter 7
The heavy glass doors slammed shut, instantly cutting off Celine’s frantic, echoing screams. The grand conservatory was plunged back into a profound, ringing silence. The towering Christmas tree continued to sparkle with warm fairy lights and gold ornaments, a surreal, festive backdrop to the brutal mafia justice that had just been executed. Lucan stood perfectly still for a long moment, the adrenaline of the confrontation slowly ebbing, leaving behind a profound, aching exhaustion.
He had defended his son and rescued the woman who had quietly risked her life, but the political fallout with the Voss family would inevitably ignite a massive war in the coming days. Celine's father, a powerful underboss with deep ties to the eastern ports, would not let the imprisonment of his daughter go unanswered. Blood would inevitably spill on the snow before the new year.
Lucan let out a slow, controlled breath. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, rolling up the sleeves to release the coiled tension in his broad shoulders. He looked at the wet wicker basket still resting on the marble floor, a stark reminder of the cruelty that had been hiding in plain sight. He needed to see his son. He needed to ensure the damage wasn't permanent.
He turned and strode purposefully out of the conservatory, navigating the bright, airy corridors of his mansion until he reached the grand staircase. He ascended two steps at a time, his polished shoes silent on the thick carpet, heading straight for his private quarters.
He approached the heavy wooden door of the master suite. Two enforcers stood guard, nodding respectfully as he approached. Lucan opened the door and stepped inside.
The room was bathed in the soft, warm glow of a roaring fireplace. Miles was sitting on the thick Persian rug in his charcoal suit, vigorously rubbing Pip with a dry towel. The small spaniel puppy was happily licking the boy's fair, rosy cheeks, completely recovered from the ordeal.
Sitting on the edge of the massive four-poster bed, watching them with a gentle, exhausted smile, was Cora. She had removed his heavy suit jacket, folding it neatly over a chair, but she was still shivering slightly in her damp black dress.
As Lucan entered, Cora immediately stood up, smoothing her rumpled white apron, her expressive eyes darting to his face to read the outcome of the confrontation downstairs.
"Daddy!" Miles cried, jumping up and running across the room with the puppy in his arms.
Lucan dropped to one knee, catching his son perfectly as the boy threw his small arms around his neck. He buried his face in Miles's hair, closing his eyes tightly.
"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm right here," Lucan murmured, his deep voice thick with emotion.
"Is Auntie Celine gone, Daddy?" Miles whispered, his voice trembling with the residual fear of the evening's chaos.
"She is gone," Lucan said fiercely, pulling back to look directly into his son's eyes. "You are my entire world, Miles. No one will ever hurt you or Pip again. The woman who did those things will never, ever step foot in this house again."
Miles sniffled, nodding slowly as he accepted his father's absolute certainty. "Cora said you wouldn't let the bad lady hurt us."
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Lucan looked up. Cora was standing quietly by the bed, her hands clasped together, her graceful posture a testament to her quiet strength. She had risked her life to confront Celine, and in doing so, had exposed a monster.
"Cora is very smart," Lucan said softly, keeping his dark eyes locked on the beautiful maid. "And incredibly brave."
