Chapter 8
Before Lena could answer his question, a sudden, violent explosion shook the foundation of the mansion. The sound was muffled by the safe room’s heavy soundproofing, but the vibration rattled the mahogany desk and caused the lights to flicker ominously.
Eli screamed, burying his face deeper into Damon’s chest. Lena jumped to her feet, her hand flying to her mouth in terror. The war had begun.
Damon did not flinch. His expression immediately hardened back into the cold, calculating mask of a mafia boss. He stood up effortlessly, holding Eli with one arm, and reached into the concealed holster at the small of his back, withdrawing a heavy, matte-black sidearm.
"Is the Voss family truly foolish enough to breach my front gates?" Damon asked out loud, a terrifying, dark amusement lacing his deep voice.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a secure radio, clicking the transmission button. "Thomas, what is our status?" he asked.
“The Voss guards breached the main courtyard, boss,” Thomas’s voice crackled over the radio, accompanied by the distinct, rapid staccato of automatic gunfire. “They used a breaching charge on the east wing doors. They are looking for the girl. We have them pinned in the grand foyer, but they have heavy numbers.”
"Will you hold the foyer until I arrive, Thomas?" Damon asked calmly.
“Copy that, boss. We’ll hold the line.”
Damon turned his attention back to the terrified housemaid and his weeping son. He gently placed Eli back onto the velvet sofa, handing the boy the thick cashmere blanket.
"Will you lock this steel door the second I step out, Lena?" Damon asked, moving swiftly toward the exit.
"You're going down there?" Lena gasped, stepping forward to grab his heavily tattooed forearm. Her fingers brushed against his warm skin, her eyes wide with desperate fear. "Mr. Kingsley, please! You don't have to fight them yourself! You have men for this!"
Damon stopped, looking down at her small, trembling hand on his arm. He didn't pull away. Instead, he reached up with his free hand, his knuckles gently brushing against her delicate cheekbone, tucking the loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Do you think I would let another man defend the people I care about, Lena?" Damon asked, his voice impossibly soft amid the chaos echoing below.
Lena’s breath hitched. The profound intensity in his cold, perceptive eyes completely paralyzed her. She stepped back, nodding silently, unable to find her voice.
"Will you keep my son safe until I return?" Damon asked, his hand dropping away from her face.
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"With my life, sir," Lena whispered fiercely.
Damon offered her a single, resolute nod. He stepped out of the safe room, the heavy steel door slamming shut behind him. Lena immediately threw the massive deadbolts, locking herself and Eli in the silent, terrifying darkness, praying for the man who was currently walking into a warzone for their sake.
