Chapter 7
The heavy service doors slammed shut, instantly cutting off Camille’s frantic, echoing screams. The grand salon was plunged back into a profound, ringing silence. The towering Christmas tree continued to sparkle with warm fairy lights and gold ornaments, a surreal, festive backdrop to the brutal mafia justice that had just been executed. Reid stood perfectly still for a long moment, the adrenaline of the confrontation slowly ebbing from his system, leaving behind a profound, aching exhaustion.
He had defended his daughter and protected the woman who had quietly suffered under his roof, but the political fallout with the Drake family would inevitably ignite a massive war in the coming days. Camille's father, a powerful underboss with deep ties to the eastern ports, would not let the imprisonment of his daughter go unanswered. Blood would inevitably spill on the snow before the new year.
Reid let out a slow, controlled breath. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, rolling his broad shoulders to release the coiled tension. He looked down at the fireplace. The plastic sound module had completely melted away, leaving nothing but toxic ash among the glowing logs. The lullaby was gone forever.
He turned and strode purposefully out of the grand salon, navigating the bright, airy corridors of his mansion until he reached the grand staircase. He ascended two steps at a time, his polished shoes silent on the thick carpet, heading straight for his private quarters.
He approached the heavy wooden door of the master suite. Two enforcers stood guard, nodding respectfully as he approached. Reid opened the door and stepped inside.
The room was bathed in the soft, warm glow of a bedside lamp and a roaring fireplace. Poppy was sitting on the edge of the massive four-poster bed, having shed her cream Christmas dress, looking small and fragile in her pajamas. Sitting on the floor right beside her, speaking in a low, soothing voice, was Mara Ellis.
The maid had removed her white apron, folding it neatly over her lap. Her black dress was still creased, but her delicate features radiated a fierce, protective warmth. As Reid entered, Mara immediately stood up, smoothing her skirt, her expressive eyes darting to his face to read the outcome of the confrontation downstairs.
"Daddy!" Poppy cried, jumping out of the bed and running across the room.
Reid dropped to one knee, catching his daughter perfectly as the girl threw her small arms around his broad shoulders. He buried his face in Poppy's hair, closing his eyes tightly.
"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm right here," Reid murmured, his deep voice thick with emotion.
"Are you going to let Auntie Camille come back, Daddy?" Poppy whispered, her voice trembling with the residual fear of the evening.
"Never," Reid said fiercely, pulling back to look directly into his daughter's eyes. "You are my entire world, Poppy. No one will ever hurt you or the people you love again. The woman who did those things is gone. She will never, ever step foot in this house again."
Poppy sniffled, nodding slowly as she accepted his absolute certainty. "Mara said you wouldn't let the bad lady hurt us."
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Reid looked up. Mara was standing quietly by the armchair, her hands clasped together, her graceful posture a testament to her quiet strength. She had endured unimaginable psychological torture to comfort his child.
"Mara is very smart," Reid said softly, keeping his dark eyes locked on the beautiful maid. "And incredibly brave."
