Chapter 8
Reid stood up, gently lifting Poppy and placing her back onto the center of the massive bed. He pulled the heavy duvet up to his daughter’s chin, pressing a lingering, fiercely protective kiss to the girl's forehead.
"Try to sleep, Poppy," Reid said, his deep voice a soothing rumble. "I will be right outside the door, and my guards are watching the hallway. Nothing can get to you."
Once Poppy’s eyes began to droop with exhaustion, Reid gestured for Mara to follow him toward the adjacent private sitting room. They stepped through the archway, the heavy velvet drapes muffling the sounds of the mansion. The natural, cinematic lighting of the sitting room highlighted the sheer exhaustion in Mara's delicate features. She kept her head slightly bowed, maintaining the submissive posture expected of a maid, but Reid stepped directly into her line of sight, forcing her to look up.
"Why didn't you tell me, Mara?" Reid asked, his voice a low, controlled murmur. "When Camille started harassing you, why didn't you come to me?"
Mara met his gaze, her expressive eyes shining with fresh tears. "Because I know what the Drake alliance means to your syndicate, Mr. Ashford. If I complained about a toy, I knew you would be forced to reprimand her. I didn't want to be the reason you went to war over a maid."
Reid studied her face, the fair, rosy skin pale with the trauma she had endured alone. He felt a profound, burning disgust for his own blindness. In a world full of hardened killers and corrupt politicians, this young woman possessed more integrity and loyalty than his entire inner circle combined.
"You endured unimaginable cruelty to protect my political standing," Reid said slowly, the artistic tattoos on his hands flexing as he clenched his fists. "I owe you a debt I can never fully repay."
"You don't owe me anything, sir," Mara whispered, her breath hitching slightly under his intense scrutiny. "I just wanted Poppy to feel loved. She misses her mother so much."
"I owe you everything," Reid corrected, taking a slow step closer. He reached out with his hand, the negative space tattoos stark against the pristine white collar of her maid uniform. He didn't touch her, but his hand hovered protectively near her cheek. "You are no longer a maid in this house, Mara. From this moment on, you are under my direct, personal protection. Whatever you need, whatever you want, you have it."
Mara’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parting slightly. "Sir, I... I don't know what to say."
"Say you will stay," Reid said, his tone shifting from the calculated focus of a mafia boss to a deeply vulnerable, quiet plea.
"Stay?"
"I cannot trust anyone else with my daughter," Reid explained, his dark eyes burning into hers. "And... I cannot imagine this house without you in it. I have been blind, Mara. But I see you now. I am so damn sorry about the recording."
Mara’s heart hammered against her ribs. The quiet, unspoken affection she had harbored for him for years was suddenly being acknowledged, dragged into the bright light of reality.
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"I will stay, Reid," Mara whispered, dropping his formal title for the first time.
Reid let out a slow, ragged exhale. He finally closed the distance, his tattooed hand gently cupping her face. His thumb brushed lightly over her cheekbone, wiping away a stray tear. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, a quiet sanctuary built in the middle of a warzone.
