Chapter 7
"Take Victor to the sub-level holding vaults beneath the armory," Daniel commanded without raising his voice.
The two bodyguards didn't hesitate. They hauled Victor up by his arms, dragging him across the ruined nursery. Victor’s heels scraped against the floor, his broken jaw preventing him from screaming, leaving only pathetic, gargled whimpers echoing down the corridor as the heavy steel doors slammed shut behind him.
Daniel turned to Dr. Bennett. "Is she stable enough to be moved to our quarters?"
"The IV is running, and I've bandaged the abdominal wall," Dr. Bennett replied, wiping his brow with a sterile towel. "She needs absolute bed rest, intravenous fluids, and round-the-clock monitoring for the next forty-eight hours. But she is out of immediate danger, Daniel."
"Thank you, Robert," Daniel said softly.
He leaned down, scooped Clara into his arms with infinite tenderness, ensuring her surgical stitches were completely supported against his chest. Clara buried her face into his neck, her breathing soft and rhythmic against his collarbone, feeling the solid, immovable fortress of his presence.
Daniel carried her down the private hallway into the grand master suite.
The master bedroom was warm, smelling of fresh lavender and burning birch from the fireplace. In the center of the massive king-sized bed sat Marissa, holding little Noah, who was swaddled in a clean, heated cashmere blanket, sleeping peacefully with a tiny pacifier in his mouth.
When Clara saw her baby, fresh tears spilled over her cheeks. "My boy..."
Daniel gently laid Clara against the soft down pillows, adjusting the blankets over her legs. He took Noah from Marissa and laid the newborn directly onto Clara’s chest. The infant stirred, his tiny fingers curling instinctively around Clara’s thumb.
Clara wept silently, pressing kisses to the boy’s soft dark hair. "I thought I lost you. I thought Mommy failed you."
"You survived, Clara," Daniel whispered, sitting on the edge of the mattress, his large hand covering both hers and the baby's. "You held out until I got home. You did everything right."
He looked up at Marissa. "Marissa."
"Yes, Boss?" the housekeeper answered, her voice still trembling.
"You are no longer a housekeeper," Daniel said, his tone authoritative and clear. "Starting today, you are Clara’s personal companion and the head of this household staff. Your salary is tripled. You answer to no one in this family except my wife and me. Do you understand?"
Marissa’s eyes welled with tears of gratitude. She bowed her head deeply. "Thank you, Boss. I swear on my life, no one will ever lay a hand on Mrs. Clara again."
"Good," Daniel said, standing up and smoothing down the front of his tailored vest. "Stay with them. Lock the bedroom doors from the inside."
Clara looked up, her fingers catching the edge of his sleeve. "Daniel... where are you going?"
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Daniel leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss against her lips, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from her rosy cheek.
"I have to hold court, my love," Daniel murmured, his eyes darkening into twin pools of midnight. "The Carter Syndicate needs to be reminded who wears the crown."
