Chapter 5
Lowell stood in the center of the room, the adrenaline slowly bleeding out of his system. He turned back to Benedetta, his expression softening instantly as he took in her pale, terrified face.
"Are you harmed anywhere, Benedetta?" Lowell asked, his deep voice losing the lethal edge it had carried moments before.
"I am fine, Mr. Ashford," Benedetta whispered, her voice trembling as she kept her hands folded over her apron. "I just... I didn't know what else to do."
"Do you know that you just saved my life, and my empire?" Lowell asked, stepping closer to her, his tattooed hand reaching out to gently touch her arm.
The touch of his hand against her sleeve sent a jolt of electricity straight to Benedetta's core. She looked up into his cold, observant eyes and found them entirely devoid of the malice he had directed at his uncle. Instead, they burned with a quiet, profound intensity that left her breathless. The bright, cinematic lighting of the ballroom illuminated the stark contrast between them—the towering, dangerous mafia boss and the delicate, beautiful housemaid who had just defended his honor.
"I couldn't just watch him kill you, sir," Benedetta whispered, her expressive eyes locked onto his. "You didn't deserve that."
"Do you believe anyone in this room cared about what I deserved, Benedetta?" Lowell asked softly, his thumb gently tracing the fabric of her sleeve. "Did you not see them raise their phones to record my downfall?"
"I saw them," Benedetta admitted, a flicker of anger tightening her delicate features. "They are cowards. All of them."
Lowell’s sharp jaw relaxed into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "And yet, the only person with the courage to strike a made man was a woman pulling a necktie."
He looked around the grand dining gallery. The fifty guests remained frozen at their tables, terrified to speak or move, unsure of what the unpredictable boss would do next. The Christmas banquet, meant to be a display of family unity, was completely ruined.
"Are we finished here for the evening?" Lowell asked the room at large, his voice returning to a cold, authoritative rumble.
Chairs scraped frantically against the marble floor as the guests took the dismissal as a command to flee. Capos, politicians, and socialites scrambled toward the exits, abandoning their fine porcelain plates and crystal stemware. Within minutes, the vast, luxurious room was entirely empty, save for Lowell and Benedetta. The heavy doors clicked shut, leaving them alone in the profound, echoing silence.
Lowell let out a long, slow breath. The rigid tension in his broad shoulders relaxed by a fraction of an inch. He turned his attention back to the beautiful housemaid standing beside him.
Benedetta was shaking. Her sophisticated black maid dress felt incredibly thin in the aftermath of the violence. She had just witnessed the destruction of a mafia coup, all because she had refused to step away from him. She looked at the mafia boss, terrified of the unpredictable storm that was surely about to consume the estate.
"Are you harmed anywhere, Benedetta?" Lowell asked quietly, his perceptive eyes searching her delicately featured face.
"I am unharmed, sir," Benedetta answered, her voice trembling as she kept her hands folded over her white apron. "But... I know what just happened. I know his loyalists will come for you because I struck him."
"Do you believe I would allow a man who disrespects me to harm the woman who defended me?" Lowell asked, a flicker of profound, protective warmth entering his cold eyes as he looked at her.
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"I didn't know what to expect, Mr. Ashford," Benedetta whispered, her expressive eyes wide with residual fear. "I just knew I couldn't watch him poison you."
"Did you think a monster would punish the only person with the courage to stand by his side?" Lowell asked gently.
