Chapter 6
The heavy silence of the ballroom was broken only by the sharp intake of Elowen’s breath. The bright, cinematic lighting illuminated the stark, intense devotion burning in Magnus's observant eyes. The line between mafia boss and housemaid had been irrevocably shattered, leaving only a man asking a woman to share his dangerous, chaotic world.
"Are you asking me to stay?" Elowen whispered, her delicate fingers tightening on the lapels of his tailored dark suit.
"Do you want to leave?" Magnus countered, his deep voice softening into a quiet, vulnerable register that he reserved only for her.
"No," Elowen answered immediately, her expressive eyes shining with unshed tears. "I never want to leave."
"Then why would I ever let you go?" Magnus asked, a genuine, breathtaking smile finally breaking across his handsome, angular face.
He pulled her gently toward him, and Elowen leaned up, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin and the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. Magnus held her fiercely, burying his face in her dark hair, finding a moment of absolute peace amidst the impending storm.
For a long time, they simply held each other in the quiet, luminous ballroom, surrounded by the remnants of the broken charity banquet. The scent of white roses and champagne mingled with the expensive cologne on his shirt.
Eventually, Magnus pulled back slightly, his expression hardening back into the calculated, strategic mask of a syndicate leader.
"Do you know that Roderick's loyalists will likely strike before the sun rises?" Magnus asked, his mind already shifting to the violent logistics of the coming war. "He had men embedded in my security detail. We are not safe here."
"What will we do?" Elowen asked, her heart racing as she stood up straight, smoothing her white apron, ready to follow his lead.
"Will you go upstairs and pack a bag for yourself?" Magnus instructed, his tone brisk and commanding. "Will you ensure you are dressed and ready to move in ten minutes?"
"We are leaving the estate?" Elowen asked, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Do you think I would leave the woman I care about sitting in a glass house while a war rages outside?" Magnus replied, reaching for the heavy silver ice bucket she had thrown earlier, inspecting the massive dent she had put in it. "I have a secure safehouse in the mountains. We will go there tonight with my best men."
"And you?" Elowen pleaded, grabbing his hand again. "Are you coming with us?"
"Must I not stay and clean up the mess in my own backyard?" Magnus asked, a dark, terrifying smirk crossing his sharp jawline. "Do you think Roderick's captains will leave this city alive?"
Elowen looked at the dangerous, beautiful man before her, knowing that she could not stop him from doing what he had to do. She nodded slowly.
"Will you promise to come back to me when it is over?" Elowen asked, her voice trembling with emotion.
"Have I ever broken a promise to you, Elowen?" Magnus asked softly, raising her hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.
He released her hand, and Elowen turned, rushing out of the ballroom to prepare for the escape. Magnus stood alone in the bright light, reaching up to touch his shorn hair. He looked at the reflection of the ballroom in a gilded mirror, his eyes narrowing into cold, unforgiving slits. The war had begun, and the king was ready to fight.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his encrypted phone, dialing his underboss.
"Marcus," Magnus said, his voice cold and absolute. "Are the vehicles prepped at the service entrance?"
"Yes, Boss," Marcus replied, the sound of weapons being loaded audible in the background. "We are ready to move her."
"Will you ensure she reaches the safehouse without a single scratch?" Magnus commanded. "If anyone tries to stop that convoy, do you understand that you are to leave no survivors?"
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"Understood, Boss. She will be safe," Marcus promised.
Magnus ended the call and walked toward the heavy mahogany doors. The charity banquet was over, but the true cost of the evening was about to be paid in blood.
