Chapter 9
Within ninety seconds, the massive, opulent room was entirely empty of guests. The only people remaining in the dining hall were Corbin, Lena, Noel, Evelina, and a dozen heavily armed, white American security guards standing quietly in the shadows near the carved marble fireplace.
"What are you going to do to me?" Evelina whispered, genuine fear replacing her arrogance as she stared at the men holding her arms.
"Will my men escort you to the lower levels, or will you walk there yourself to await my judgment?" Corbin asked softly, gesturing with a heavily tattooed hand toward the armed guards.
Evelina let out a ragged, humiliated sob as the guards began to drag her toward the heavy double doors. Her furious, terrified screams echoed through the bright, airy room, fading only when the doors slammed shut, plunging the dining hall back into a profound, ringing silence.
Corbin turned his full attention back to the beautiful housemaid and his young son. The cold, terrifying edge of the Mafia boss softened considerably as he looked down at little Noel.
The six-year-old boy was crying softly, burying his face into Lena's white apron. The relief of finally speaking the truth, combined with the crushing terror of the evening, was overwhelming.
Corbin slowly dropped to one knee, entirely disregarding his expensive clothing. He brought himself down to the child's eye level. He reached out with his heavily tattooed hand, his fingers moving with profound, unexpected gentleness. He gently brushed a tear from Noel's fair, rosy cheek.
"Are you safe now, my son?" Corbin asked, his deep voice returning to a warm, comforting rumble.
Noel sniffled, looking at the tall, imposing man with wide, innocent eyes. He nodded slowly, throwing his small arms around his father's thick neck. Corbin closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, holding the boy tightly, an overwhelming surge of grief and protective fury crashing over him.
After a long moment, Corbin stood back up. He turned his perceptive gaze toward the housemaid who had risked everything to protect the life of the boss's son. Lena stood quietly in her sophisticated black maid dress, her hands still resting protectively on Noel's shoulders. Her softly tapered face was pale from the adrenaline, but her expressive brows were relaxed.
"Do you understand the magnitude of the debt I owe you tonight, Lena?" Corbin asked, looking deeply into her delicate features.
Lena’s fair, rosy cheeks flushed a delicate pink under his intense, perceptive gaze. "I only did what was right, sir. I couldn't leave him in the dark."
"Is bravery not the rarest commodity in our world?" Corbin questioned, bowing his head slightly in a profound gesture of respect. "Will you assist my son to his suite, Lena? Will you stay with him until I return?"
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"I won't leave his side, Mr. Wexler," Lena promised, reaching out to gently take Noel's hand.
Corbin watched them walk toward the heavy double doors leading to the residential wing. His angular face, usually a mask of impenetrable authority, softened with a rare, genuine gratitude. A young woman in a maid's uniform had demonstrated a courage that surpassed his fiercest soldiers.
