Chapter 2
Daniel moved with swift, protective certainty. In one fluid motion, he reached into the ivory bassinet, scooped six-day-old Noah into the crook of his left arm, and tucked the swaddled newborn safely against his chest. The boy immediately quieted against the heat of his father’s body, his frantic gasps settling into ragged whimpers against Daniel’s dress shirt.
Holding his son close, Daniel dropped to one knee beside Clara. His large, calloused right hand—bearing the heavy gold Carter signet ring—gently cradled her jawline. Her fair skin was burning with fever, slick with cold sweat. The torn hem of her robe revealed angry yellow and purple contusions along her ribs, and the scent of floor wax and stale water clung to her hair.
"Clara," Daniel murmured, his thumb brushing over her cracked lips. "Clara, look at me."
Her eyelids fluttered, but she could not surface from the dark fog of exhaustion and pain.
Suddenly, a violent, desperate pounding rattled the heavy service door connecting the nursery wing to the back staff corridor. The brass handle shook violently.
"Boss! Boss, please! Open the door!"
It was Marissa Reed, the twenty-seven-year-old head housekeeper, her voice strained and muffled by the reinforced oak panels.
Daniel rose, his jaw locked in a terrifying clench. He kept Noah secured against his ribs, walked three strides to the service entrance, and threw the heavy brass deadbolt back.
The door flew open. Marissa stumbled into the room, gasping for breath, her apron twisted, her hair disheveled, and her uniform sleeves soaked in water. Tears tracked down her flushed cheeks as she saw Daniel standing over the carnage.
"Boss..." Marissa gasped, her hands shaking as she pointed toward the dining table where Evelyn still sat sipping her wine. "Boss, you don't know... You can't even imagine what Evelyn did to her while you were in Boston!"
Before the words could fully leave Marissa’s mouth, the shadows of the adjacent dining room shifted.
Forty-one-year-old Victor Carter stepped through the archway. Wearing an expensive charcoal suit and an arrogant sneer, Victor moved with sudden, predatory violence. His arm lashed out, his fingers sinking deep into Marissa’s hair, yanking the young housekeeper backward until she cried out in agony.
"Keep your filthy mouth shut, maid," Victor snarled, wrenching Marissa’s neck back as she clawed desperately at his sleeves. "Family matters don't concern the help."
Daniel slowly turned his head.
The air in the nursery seemed to drop twenty degrees. Daniel shifted Noah into the deeper fold of his arm, his ice-grey eyes locking onto his cousin with a stillness that promised total annihilation.
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"Victor," Daniel said, his voice flat, soft, and chillingly devoid of emotion. "Take your hands off her."
Victor sneered, tightening his fist in Marissa's hair. "You need to learn who runs this household when you're away playing mob boss, cousin. Your mother gave orders. We don't take lip from cleaners."
