Chapter 4
Merrin immediately grabbed the heavy, padded dining chair and pulled it firmly behind him, ensuring it wouldn't slide away on the polished floor.
"Sir, lean back," Merrin pleaded, her voice shaking with raw terror. She wedged herself between the table and the bodyguards, placing her small, delicate hands securely on his broad shoulders. "Please, just lean back into the chair."
Lowen’s chest heaved as he fought through the blinding pain radiating from his knee. Slowly, agonizingly, he allowed Merrin to guide his weight backward. She carefully helped him sit, her hands hovering protectively over him until his back hit the upholstery.
Her breath caught audibly in her throat as she looked down. She could see him struggling to straighten his leg, his muscles spasming violently without the stabilization of the brace. The bright, cinematic lighting illuminated the stark, pale agony etched across his normally stoic, handsome face.
"Merrin…" Lowen gasped, his voice strained and tight. He looked directly at her, his dark eyes filled with a terrifying vulnerability that only she was allowed to see. "My brace."
"I've got it. I'll get it," Merrin whispered frantically, dropping to her knees on the floor without a second thought for her uniform or her dignity.
She scrambled across the hardwood, her flats slipping slightly, until her hands closed around the heavy, hinged medical brace Domenica had thrown aside. She clutched it to her chest and crawled swiftly back to his side.
While Merrin was on the floor, Domenica took her next calculated step. She stepped up to the table and slammed the thick, leather-bound succession folder down right in front of Lowen. She slid it across the smooth tablecloth until it bumped against his pristine water glass.
"It's over, Lowen," Domenica stated, her voice echoing in the silent gallery. "I have the backing of the northern families. I have your perimeter guards. You have nothing but a broken body."
Lowen stared at the folder, his jaw clenching so hard the muscles jumped beneath his stubble. "I would rather burn this entire estate to the ground than hand it to you," he gritted out.
"You don't have a choice," Domenica sneered.
Merrin rose to her knees beside his leg. With practiced, gentle hands, she retrieved the brace and carefully positioned the hinged metal joints around his swollen knee. She wrapped the thick straps around his calf and thigh, her fingers flying with desperate speed to secure his joint before the pain caused him to pass out.
Domenica, noticing the maid attempting to repair the damage, rolled her eyes in profound irritation.
"Leave it," Domenica snapped.
May you like
She reached down, her diamond bracelets clinking together, intending to snatch the medical brace away from the maid's hands again to keep him vulnerable and broken.
Merrin looked up, her expressive eyes wide, watching the older woman's manicured hand descending toward Lowen's injured leg. The absolute cruelty of the act ignited a spark in the young housemaid's chest—a spark that instantly roared into a blinding, protective inferno. No dialogue was spoken, but the air in the room seemed to crackle with static electricity.
