Freezing instantly, she stopped before handing the damaged cane to the mafia boss.

The mansion was eerily quiet when Mara returned to the dining room an hour later. The cleaning staff had been dismissed for the night, leaving the debris of the ruined banquet exactly where it lay. The tall ivory candles had burned down significantly, their wax pooling in the ornate brass candelabras, casting long, dancing shadows across the cream marble floors.

Dante was still sitting at the head of the table. He had removed his tailored suit jacket, draping it over the back of the velvet chair, and loosened his tie. The small neck tattoo was fully visible, stark against his fair skin. He was staring intensely at the severed piece of wood.

"Is he asleep?" Dante asked without looking up, hearing the soft rustle of her A-line skirt as she entered.

"Yes, Mr. Ashford. He fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow," Mara replied, walking closer. "The guards are stationed exactly where you requested."

"Why are you still awake, Mara?" Dante inquired, finally turning his head to look at her. "Are you not exhausted from the ordeal?"

"I couldn't sleep, sir," Mara admitted, her delicate features pale in the dimming light. She stood a few feet away, her hands folded neatly over her white apron. "I was worried about you."

"Do I look like a man who requires worrying over?" Dante asked, though a faint, genuine smile touched his sharp jawline.

"You look like a man who has been betrayed by someone he trusted," Mara said softly, stepping closer. "That kind of wound hurts more than the one on your leg."

Dante’s eyes locked onto hers, struck by her profound intuition. He reached out his hand, the artistic tattoos stark against his skin.

"Will you come here, Mara?" Dante asked, his voice a low, magnetic rumble.

Mara hesitated for only a fraction of a second before stepping forward. She placed her small, delicate hand into his large, rough one. His grip was warm and surprisingly gentle. He pulled her slightly closer, until she was standing right beside his chair.

"Do you understand what happens tomorrow?" Dante asked, looking up into her expressive eyes. "Do you realize that by removing Cressida, I have effectively declared war on the Vale family?"

"I know," Mara whispered, her breath trembling slightly. "Her father will retaliate."

"Are you afraid of what is coming?" Dante inquired, his thumb slowly stroking the back of her hand, sending a shiver up her spine.

"I am afraid for you," Mara confessed, her vulnerability completely exposed. "I don't want you to go to war. I don't want you to be in danger."

"Did you think I would let them walk away after they tried to cripple me and threatened my son?" Dante asked, his gaze turning cold and hard at the thought of his enemies. "Did you think I would let them breathe the same air as the woman who saved my life?"

Mara’s heart skipped a beat. She looked down at him, the quiet affection between them finally bursting into the open.