Chapter 10
The heavy steel door of the safe room unbolted with a loud, mechanical clank. Lena pulled it open frantically, her heart soaring as Damon stepped into the room. His white shirt was dusted with plaster and stained with a few drops of blood, but he was entirely uninjured. The terrifying aura of violence still clung to him, but as he looked at Lena and Eli, his cold eyes softened immediately.
"Dad!" Eli cried, leaping off the sofa and sprinting across the room.
Damon dropped to one knee, catching the boy in his powerful arms and lifting him high against his chest. "Are you unharmed, Eli?" Damon asked, burying his face in his son’s neck, letting out a long, heavy breath.
"I'm okay, Dad. We're okay," Eli promised, wrapping his small arms tightly around his father’s neck.
Damon stood up, holding Eli securely, and turned his perceptive gaze to Lena. She stood by the desk, her sophisticated black maid dress wrinkled, her hands trembling as the massive adrenaline rush finally began to fade.
"Are you injured, Lena?" Damon asked softly, stepping closer to her.
"I'm fine, Mr. Kingsley," Lena whispered, a tear finally escaping and tracking down her delicate cheekbone. "Is it over?"
"Is a war ever truly over in our world?" Damon asked, a faint, melancholic shadow crossing his sharply defined jaw. "But you are safe tonight. Both of you."
He reached out, his heavily tattooed hand gently wiping the tear from her cheek. The intimacy of the gesture in the quiet, steel-lined room made Lena’s breath catch. She looked up into his eyes, seeing past the ruthless mafia boss, seeing the fiercely protective man underneath.
"Will you stay here with us, Lena?" Damon asked, his deep voice dropping to a low, incredibly gentle register. "Not as a maid. But as someone who belongs to this family?"
Lena’s expressive brows lifted in shock. She looked at Eli, who was smiling at her from his father’s arms, and then back to the imposing, handsome man who had just burned an alliance to the ground for her sake.
"Do you really want me to stay?" Lena asked, a soft, hopeful smile finally breaking across her face.
Before Damon could formulate his next question, his encrypted cellular phone began to vibrate violently in his pocket. The screen illuminated the dark room, flashing a single, highly secured caller ID: Victor Voss.
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Damon did not take his eyes off Lena. He reached into his pocket and answered the call, pressing the phone to his ear.
"Are you calling to beg for your daughter’s life, Victor?" Damon asked into the receiver, his cold eyes locking onto Lena with a terrifying, absolute promise of protection.
