Chapter 10
"Will you accept a new position in this household?" Marcus asked, his tone shifting into a formal, absolute decree. "Will you act as the head of my personal household staff, answering to absolutely no one but me, with a salary that ensures you never have to wear a maid's uniform again?"
Edith’s eyes widened. It was a massive promotion, a shield of protection that would elevate her far beyond the reach of the regular household staff, securing her future and her safety.
"Yes, Mr. Wexler," Edith answered, a genuine, beautiful smile breaking across her face. "I would be honored."
"Have you realized yet that your courage gave me the key to saving my son tonight?" Marcus asked, offering a rare, subtle smile that completely transformed his handsome face.
The following morning, the Wexler mansion was bathed in bright, airy sunlight that poured through the richly draped windows. The luminous colors of the estate felt renewed, as if the heavy, oppressive presence of Antonia had been physically washed away.
Edith stood in the grand dining hall, now acting in her new capacity. The room was empty of guests, the long walnut tables cleared of the gold-rimmed porcelain and crystal stemware from the aborted engagement dinner. She watched as two maintenance workers carefully replaced the broken locking mechanism on the heavy steel wheelchair.
"Does the room look different in the light of day?"
The deep, low voice caused Edith to jump slightly. She turned to see Marcus rolling into the dining hall. He wore a fresh, tailored charcoal suit, his thick, wavy hair swept back immaculately. The small neck tattoo was visible above his collar, a stark reminder of his brutal profession.
"It feels much lighter, sir," Edith smiled, her fair, rosy cheeks flushing at his sudden appearance.
"Is it possible that a single act of defiance can clear the fog from an entire estate?" Marcus asked, rolling toward her.
He stopped beside her. He looked up at her, his cold eyes unreadable but approving. He had spent the entire night in the lower levels, extracting a full confession from Antonia regarding her sabotage and her role in his mother's fall, before orchestrating the systematic destruction of her family's syndicate. The war had been won before the enemy even realized the battle had begun.
"Have the perimeter guards reported any unusual activity?" Marcus inquired, shifting his focus to the impending conflict.
"The head of security said the perimeter is quiet, sir," Edith answered, having been briefed earlier that morning. "But they are expecting some retaliation from the Shaw family before nightfall."
"Do you believe the Shaw syndicate has the tactical discipline to breach my defenses?" Marcus asked, a dark, terrifying confidence bleeding into his tone.
"I don't think anyone could breach your defenses, Mr. Wexler," Edith replied honestly.
Marcus turned his head, his perceptive eyes locking onto hers. The warm morning light highlighted the delicate cheekbones of her face. The air between them felt suddenly charged, thick with a complex mixture of gratitude, danger, and an undeniable, magnetic pull.
"Will you promise to keep Tobias in the secure wing until I tell you it is safe?" Marcus asked, his voice dropping into that intimate, low register.
"You have my word," Edith promised, her expressive brows drawing together in concern for him. "Will you be safe here?"
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"Does a man who has finally found something worth defending ever truly lose?" Marcus asked softly.
He held her gaze for a long, heavy moment, the unspoken tension vibrating between them. Then, the heavy mahogany doors of the dining hall banged open, and his lead capo rushed into the room, his face grim. The war had begun. Marcus didn't flinch. He gave Edith one last, lingering look, a silent promise of his return, before turning his wheelchair to face the fire.
