Chapter 8
The tranquility of the mountain safehouse was short-lived. Two days later, Magnus and Elowen sat in the back of an armored SUV, speeding back toward the city skyline. The war had been won, but the messy, bureaucratic aftermath of a mafia coup required the king's presence.
Magnus looked different. The jagged, shorn patch on his head had been expertly blended by a trusted barber into a sharp, military-style fade that somehow made his angular face look even more dangerous and commanding. He wore a fresh, immaculate dark three-piece suit, his powerful shoulders unbowed.
Elowen sat beside him, her hand resting comfortably in his heavily tattooed one. She wore a sophisticated, tailored charcoal dress and a subtle diamond necklace he had gifted her the previous night. She was no longer a housemaid; she was the woman the entire syndicate now knew had saved the boss's life.
"Are you ready to face the commission, Elowen?" Magnus asked, his cold, observant eyes watching the city approach through the tinted windows.
"I am ready," Elowen answered, her voice steady. "What will they do?"
"Do you believe they have a choice but to accept the new reality?" Magnus inquired, his jaw setting into a firm line. "Roderick broke the most sacred rule of our organization. He attacked a sitting boss in public. They will demand his execution to maintain order."
"Will you be the one to do it?" Elowen asked softly, looking at his profile.
"Does a king outsource his justice?" Magnus replied, the lethal edge returning to his deep voice.
The SUV pulled into the heavily guarded underground garage of a towering skyscraper downtown, the neutral ground where the commission held their meetings. Marcus and a dozen enforcers were waiting for them, their weapons concealed but readily accessible.
They rode the private elevator in silence, the brass doors opening to reveal a massive, opulent boardroom with panoramic views of the city. Five older men, the heads of the allied families, sat around a long mahogany table. They looked up as Magnus entered, their expressions a mix of respect and deep apprehension.
Elowen stood slightly behind Magnus’s right shoulder, her elegant posture unyielding. She felt the heavy, scrutinizing stares of the commission members, but she did not flinch.
"Magnus," the eldest commission member, a man named Falcone, said, nodding slowly. "We are glad to see you breathing. The situation with Roderick is... regrettable."
"Is treason merely a 'regrettable' situation to you, Falcone?" Magnus asked, his voice echoing in the large room as he took his seat at the head of the table. He did not ask Elowen to sit; her presence standing behind him was a deliberate, powerful statement of her elevated status.
"It is a tragedy," Falcone amended quickly, clearing his throat. "We have reviewed the security footage you provided. The theft of the charity pendant, the unprovoked attack... it is undeniable. The commission unanimously agrees that Roderick Arden has forfeited his life and his holdings."
"Do you expect me to thank you for stating the obvious?" Magnus asked, leaning back in his leather chair.
"We only ask that the execution be handled quietly," another boss interjected nervously. "The police are already asking questions about the shootout at your estate. We need discretion."
"Will I ever allow the police to dictate family business?" Magnus inquired, his cold eyes sweeping over the men. "Roderick will be dealt with tonight. His territories will be absorbed directly under my command. Are there any objections?"
The silence in the room was absolute. No one dared to challenge him. The coup had failed, and Magnus was stronger than ever.
"And the girl?" Falcone asked, gesturing slightly toward Elowen. "It is highly unusual to bring a civilian, a former servant, into a commission meeting."
Magnus slowly stood up. His towering frame dominated the room. He reached back, took Elowen’s hand, and pulled her forward until she was standing directly beside him.
"Do you see a servant, Falcone, or do you see the woman who disarmed a traitor while the rest of my family sat on their hands and laughed?" Magnus asked, his voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly whisper. "Do you understand that any disrespect shown to her is a direct act of war against me?"
The bosses swallowed hard, exchanging nervous glances. They understood perfectly.
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"She has our utmost respect, Magnus," Falcone assured him hastily.
"Shall we conclude this meeting, then?" Magnus asked, turning his back on the most powerful men in the city and walking out of the boardroom, keeping Elowen’s hand securely in his.
