Chapter 7
Willa swallowed hard, her heart pounding against her ribs as she slowly descended the grand staircase. She wore her sophisticated black maid dress, looking incredibly fragile against the backdrop of heavily armed men and the looming threat of war. She stopped a few steps above him, her hands gripping the white fabric of her apron.
"I’m sorry, sir," Willa whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I... I couldn't just sit in that room while they threatened you. I needed to know if we were safe."
"Do you believe I would allow a single one of those men to cross my threshold while you and my son are inside?" Cassian asked, his gaze softening almost imperceptibly as he looked up at her delicate cheekbones.
"They have an army, Cassian," Willa said, dropping his formal title in her panic, her expressive brows drawing together in deep concern. "Arthur said he is bringing everyone. They outnumber you."
"Do you think an army of cowards can break a fortress built by kings?" Cassian inquired, stepping up to meet her on the stairs. He reached out, his tattooed hand gently resting on her arm, a steadying anchor in the chaos. "Will you trust me to handle the Sloane family?"
"I trust you," Willa breathed, realizing with startling clarity that she meant it. Despite the violence, despite the terrifying power he wielded, Cassian Grey was the only source of true safety she had ever known.
Before Cassian could respond, the heavy, encrypted radio clipped to Marcus's belt crackled to life with sudden, violent static.
"Boss! We have a major breach!" a panicked guard yelled over the comms. "The Sloane convoy didn't retreat! They looped around and hit the eastern perimeter wall with explosives! They have heavy ordinance! We are taking casualties!"
The deafening roar of a massive explosion echoed through the sprawling estate, shaking the very foundation of the grand foyer. The crystal chandeliers rattled violently above them, raining fine dust down onto the marble floors. The staccato rhythm of automatic gunfire immediately followed, sounding terrifyingly close.
Cassian’s posture instantly shifted, the brief moment of tenderness vanishing beneath the armor of a wartime commander. He pulled a heavy, suppressed pistol from the holster at his waist and checked the chamber.
"Are the subterranean vaults completely sealed, Marcus?" Cassian asked, his voice cutting through the chaotic noise with terrifying clarity.
"Yes, sir! But the path to the vaults is going to be a bloodbath if they breach the main house!" Marcus yelled over the gunfire.
"Will you escort Willa to the panic room behind the library immediately?" Cassian commanded, turning his cold, watchful eyes back to the housemaid.
"What about you?" Willa cried out, reaching for his arm, desperate to stop him from walking into the crossfire. "You can't go out there alone!"
"Do I look like a man who hides while enemies stand on my lawn?" Cassian asked, gently prying her fingers from his sleeve.
He didn't wait for her to process the terrifying truth of his question. He turned his broad shoulders and strode toward the main doors, walking straight toward the deafening roar of the gunfire to defend his home.
Marcus grabbed Willa’s arm gently but firmly. "Come on, kid. We have to move now."
He practically dragged her down the corridor, her black maid dress swishing rapidly as she struggled to keep up with the massive enforcer's strides. They navigated the shadowed archways, the sounds of shouting men and shattering glass echoing through the mansion. They rushed past the nursery, Marcus pausing just long enough to scoop the sleeping Finn into his massive arms without breaking stride.
They reached the library, a massive room lined with dark mahogany bookshelves. Marcus pushed a hidden panel behind a row of encyclopedias, revealing a heavy steel door. He keyed in a biometric code, and the massive deadbolts retracted with a loud, mechanical clank.
"Get inside," Marcus ordered, pushing Willa and the boy into the small, reinforced steel room. "Lock it from the inside and don't open it for anyone but me or the boss."
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"Marcus, please, don't let him die," Willa sobbed, her heart-shaped face pale with absolute terror as she held the sleeping child.
"Do you think the boss is going to let a bunch of punks take what's his?" Marcus grunted, offering a grim smile before slamming the heavy steel door shut, sealing Willa and Finn in the terrifying, silent darkness of the panic room.
