Chapter 7
The bright, airy atmosphere of the nursery suddenly felt suffocating. The cinematic lighting cast long, harsh shadows across the room. The revelation hung heavily in the air. The Hart family wasn't just seeking financial retaliation for the broken engagement; they were demanding blood, and they had specifically targeted the woman who had humiliated their daughter.
Bree stumbled backward, her legs hitting the edge of the rocking chair. She felt physically sick.
"They want me?" Bree gasped, her voice trembling violently. She looked frantically between Marcus and Everett. "They know it was me?"
"Does a coward hide their shame, or do they blame the closest target?" Everett asked coldly. He didn't even look at her. He kept his perceptive eyes locked entirely on his head of security.
"Did they issue an ultimatum?" Everett asked, his voice a low, lethal hum that betrayed absolutely no panic.
"Yes, Boss," Marcus confirmed, checking the encrypted phone. "They gave us three hours. If we don't deliver Bree to the neutral zone at the docks, they are going to escalate. They are threatening to hit the supply convoys, the casinos, and eventually, the estate itself."
"Do they truly believe they can intimidate me?" Everett asked smoothly, adjusting the cuffs of his crisp dress shirt. He turned away from the security chief and finally looked at Bree.
She was pale and shaking, terrified that she had brought destruction down upon the only home she had known for the past three years.
Everett walked over to her, his polished leather shoes silent on the thick rug. He reached out and gently gripped her arms, pulling her firmly against his powerful, broad chest. The sheer, immovable strength of his masculine frame grounded her instantly.
"Listen to me very carefully, Bree," Everett murmured, his deep voice vibrating against her cheek. "Did I tell you that you are under my protection? Do I look like a man who surrenders what is his?"
"But the war—" Bree started, tears welling in her eyes.
"Is a war fought by surrendering?" Everett interrupted, his eyes burning with a dark, unyielding fire. "The Hart family believes they can dictate the rules of my city because I showed them a moment of diplomacy. They are about to learn a very painful lesson in modern warfare."
He released her slowly and turned back to Marcus, the lethal Mafia boss fully emerging.
"Recall all the heavy teams from the outer territories," Everett commanded, his voice echoing with absolute authority. "Lock down the perimeter of the estate. I want snipers on the roof and the heavy armored vehicles blocking the gates. Is the safe room prepped?"
"Yes, Boss. Fully stocked and secured," Marcus confirmed.
"Good," Everett replied, a cold, merciless smile curling the corner of his lips. "We are not going to the docks. We are going to let them come to us."
Everett turned his gaze back to Bree. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, sleek black keycard on a thick titanium lanyard. He gently slipped it over her head, the heavy metal resting cold against her collarbone.
"Take Owen down to the subterranean bunker," Everett instructed softly, leaning in close. "Lock the heavy steel doors from the inside. Will you open them for anyone but me or Marcus?"
"No," Bree whispered, her heart pounding with a mixture of terror and awe. "I won't. Please... be careful."
"Am I ever careless?" Everett asked, pressing a brief, fierce kiss to her forehead. The touch was electric, a seal on his vow to return.
May you like
He turned and walked purposefully out of the nursery, moving into the shadows of the hallway to prepare for war. He had dismantled an engagement to protect his son, and now he was prepared to burn the entire American underworld to the ground to protect the woman he was falling in love with.
The storm was breaking, but Everett Marlowe was the lightning.
