Chapter 8
Cullen walked through the expansive, dimly lit corridors of his estate, leaving the bright conservatory far behind. The atmosphere in the mansion had shifted dramatically. What was supposed to be a day of wedding preparations had rapidly transformed into a militarized zone. Dozens of white American men in dark suits moved with lethal purpose, carrying heavy weapon bags and tactical gear, their American accents echoing sharply as they barked orders to one another.
He bypassed the war room for a moment and walked toward the east wing. He needed to see her.
Cullen quietly opened the heavy oak door to Mireya’s bedroom. The room was painted in soft pastels, a stark contrast to the violence brewing outside its walls. Margaret was sitting in a rocking chair by the window, reading a storybook aloud. Mireya was tucked safely into her large, plush bed, her breathing slow and even.
When the door clicked, Margaret looked up. Her fair, wrinkled face softened as she saw her son. She set the book down and stood up, walking quietly over to him.
"She is asleep," Margaret whispered, her voice trembling slightly with residual fear. "Dr. Evans came. Her oxygen levels are perfectly normal. She just needs rest."
Cullen nodded, his cold, intimidating eyes melting into profound relief. He looked past his mother, staring at the tiny figure in the bed.
"You did well today, Mother," Cullen said, his raspy voice incredibly gentle. "If you hadn't yelled, I might not have reached her in time."
"I thought I lost her, Cullen," Margaret choked out, tears welling in her eyes. She reached out and grabbed his muscular, tattooed forearm. "That woman... Tove. She is a monster. I told you the Mercer family was dangerous."
"You were right," Cullen admitted softly. "I allowed business to blind me to the threat she posed to my blood. It will not happen again."
"What is happening downstairs?" Margaret asked, noticing the tension radiating from her son's broad shoulders. "The guards are pulling the steel shutters over the ground-floor windows. Are we in danger?"
"You are completely safe," Cullen assured her, placing his large hand over hers. "I am placing four of my best men outside this door. You are not to leave this room, no matter what you hear tonight. Do you understand me?"
Margaret’s eyes widened, recognizing the gravity of the lockdown. "You are going to kill them, aren't you?"
"I am going to erase them," Cullen whispered, the cold, measured tone returning to his voice. "They broke the one rule that matters. They touched my daughter."
May you like
He walked over to the bed, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss against Mireya’s fair, rosy cheek. He lingered for a moment, inhaling the sweet scent of his child, grounding himself before the storm.
When Cullen stood up and walked out of the bedroom, the father was gone. Only the Mafia Boss remained. He strode down the hallway toward the war room, where his capos were waiting to orchestrate the demise of the Mercer syndicate.
