Chapter 6
"Nell," Dorian whispered, his voice losing the lethal edge it had carried moments before, softening into a quiet, intimate register. "I am so deeply sorry."
Nell looked up, her puffy, shadowed eyes meeting his. "She took everything, Mr. Westbrook. The hospital called yesterday. They are going to discharge my mother because I missed the payments."
"That will not happen," Dorian said, his own eyes burning with fierce, uncompromising resolve. He reached out, his heavily tattooed hands gently enveloping her shaking shoulders. "I will have my personal physician transferred to her case tonight. Every expense is covered. She will receive the best care in this city. I swear it on my life."
"You... you would do that for me?" Nell whispered, her expressive eyes wide with disbelief, her hands trembling as they hovered over her rumpled white apron.
"Do you believe I would allow a woman who bled for my household to suffer because of my blindness?" Dorian asked, a flicker of profound, protective warmth entering his cold eyes as he looked at her.
"I didn't know what to expect, sir," Nell whispered, fresh tears spilling over her fair, rosy cheeks. "I just knew I couldn't keep quiet anymore. When Archie said she bought it... it broke me."
"Did you think a monster would punish the only person with the courage to stand by his son?" Dorian asked gently.
He stood up straight, offering her his hand. "Come," Dorian said softly, pulling her to her feet. "We cannot stay in this room. The estate will be on lockdown within the hour, and the Rowe family will likely retaliate before dawn once they realize Celine is missing."
"Where will I go, sir? I am just a maid," Nell whispered, looking down at her creased black dress.
"You are not a maid tonight, Nell," Dorian replied, his deep voice resolute. "You are under my absolute protection. You and Archie."
"Marcus," Dorian called out to the underboss who had just returned to the doorway. "Have a detail escort us to my private study. I want four men on the door at all times."
"Right away, Boss," Marcus nodded, gesturing for his men to form a protective perimeter.
The journey through the opulent corridors of the mansion was a blur of frantic activity. Tactical enforcers, dressed in dark combat gear, were rapidly taking up positions by every window and entrance, transforming the luxurious estate into an impenetrable fortress. The warm, festive lights of Christmas Eve felt entirely out of place against the cold, metallic reality of weapons being loaded and radios crackling with secure comms.
Dorian did not let go of Nell’s hand. He guided her through the chaos with a calm, absolute authority, his presence alone parting the sea of armed men. They reached the heavy oak doors of his private study located deep within the secure interior of the mansion.
He pushed the doors open and ushered her inside, locking the deadbolt behind them. The study was a sanctuary of dark wood, leather bindings, and soft, amber lighting. It was quiet here, insulated from the frantic preparations outside. Silas was already inside, standing guard over a sleeping Archie on the leather sofa.
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"Sit," Dorian commanded gently, gesturing toward an armchair opposite the sofa.
Nell complied, her legs feeling shaky. The adrenaline of the evening was finally wearing off, leaving her exhausted and hyper-aware of the massive shift in her reality.
