Chapter 8
"Will you wait here and keep the door locked?" Aurelio asked, looking back at Nerea, setting his glass down on the table with a heavy thud.
"You can't go down there!" Nerea pleaded in a harsh whisper, stepping forward and instinctively grabbing his forearm. "They will kill you!"
"Do you think an army of cowards can break a fortress built by kings?" Aurelio asked softly, looking down at her delicate, polish-stained fingers resting against his crisp white shirt.
"They have an army, Aurelio," Nerea said, dropping his formal title in her panic. "Did I ruin everything? Did I start a war that will destroy this family?"
"Does a man ruin his house by cutting out a cancer?" Aurelio inquired, a dark, terrifying warmth bleeding into his cold eyes. "Did you not simply force the poison into the light before it could finish me?"
Nerea swallowed hard, tears welling in her eyes. "Will you come back?"
"Have I ever failed to protect what belongs to me?" Aurelio asked.
He gently pried her fingers from his arm, giving her hand a brief, reassuring squeeze before turning his broad shoulders toward the door. He slipped out into the hallway, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind him. Nerea immediately threw the deadbolt, pressing her back against the wood, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm.
The grand foyer of the Grantham estate was a cavernous space of polished marble and soaring archways, entirely devoid of the warmth present in the master suite above. The cascading crystal chandeliers were unlit, the only illumination coming from the harsh security floodlights outside bleeding through the high, reinforced windows.
Aurelio descended the sweeping marble staircase with measured, deliberate steps. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the intricate, refined tattoos wrapping around his muscular forearms.
Standing in the center of the foyer, surrounded by six of Aurelio’s heavily armed enforcers, was Elias Bellgrave. He was a ruthless, aging capo, his face flushed with arrogant rage, his heavy wool overcoat looking out of place amidst the tactical gear of the guards.
"Where is the maid, Grantham?" Elias demanded, his voice echoing loudly in the cold space. "You cannot hold a servant above my daughter in your own home!"
Aurelio stopped on the final step, towering over the older capo. His cold, observant eyes analyzed Elias with clinical detachment.
"Do you believe you give orders in my home, Elias?" Aurelio asked, his deep voice a low, terrifying rumble.
"Hand over the girl right now, or the manufacturing alliance is dead, and we go to war," Elias spat, taking a step forward before Carlo’s massive hand slammed into his chest, stopping him dead.
"Are you willing to die for a woman who attempts to cripple her boss in public?" Aurelio asked, his jaw settling into a sharp, uncompromising line.
Elias sneered, trying to maintain his bravado. "She was just putting you in your place! You are letting a housemaid dictate the politics of the entire eastern seaboard!"
"Do you consider the premeditated humiliation of my person to be mere politics?" Aurelio inquired, stepping off the stairs and closing the distance between them until he was mere inches from Elias’s face.
"It's business!" Elias shouted, spit flying from his lips. "And right now, business dictates that you hand her over before I burn this place down!"
"Shall we see how much your business is worth when it is buried in ashes?" Aurelio asked softly.
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He didn't wait for Elias to draw a weapon. Aurelio moved with blinding speed, his tattooed hand closing like a steel vice around Elias's throat, lifting the older capo off the floor.
"Did you think I would let you leave this house alive after what your blood tried to do to mine?" Aurelio asked, his eyes burning with absolute, murderous intent.
