Chapter 5
The sprawling mansion, normally vibrating with the quiet efficiency of the staff, was completely silent as Benedict guided Cora toward the private west wing. The heavily armed guards patrolling the ivory-paneled corridors nodded respectfully, their eyes widening imperceptibly as they registered the housemaid walking side-by-side with the boss, not a step behind him.
They reached a set of heavy, double oak doors. Benedict pushed them open, revealing a breathtaking master suite. It was a massive room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the estate's dark, frost-covered gardens. A massive, four-poster bed sat in the center, flanked by antique furnishings and a roaring fireplace.
"Is this room to your liking?" Benedict asked, stopping near the center of the plush, Persian rug.
Cora stood in the doorway, her hands still clutching the white fabric of her apron. The sheer opulence of the suite was overwhelming. "Mr. Ashford, this... this is a master suite. My things are down in the basement quarters. I don't need all of this."
"Did you think I would allow my niece to sleep in a basement?" Benedict inquired, his deep voice rumbling with quiet conviction. He turned to face her, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow in the firelight. "Will you call me by my name?"
Cora swallowed hard, looking up at his angular face and the small artistic tattoo on his neck. "Benedict. But... what if Alessandra's father marches on the estate tonight? Aren't I a liability to you? I am just a maid. I don't know how to survive in this world."
"Do you believe the Pierce family can breach these walls?" Benedict asked, taking a slow step toward her. "Are my men not the most lethal in the city?"
"I worry for your safety," Cora admitted honestly, her delicate cheekbones pale in the firelight. "You threw away a massive alliance for me. A woman you barely know."
"Do I not know the blood that runs in your veins?" Benedict asked softly. He reached out, his tattooed hand gently resting on her shoulder. The physical contact was reassuring, a heavy anchor in the chaotic storm she had unleashed. "Did your mother tell you anything else about my brother before she passed?"
Cora looked down, her lower lip trembling slightly. "She said he was kind. She said he didn't want any part of the syndicate, but he stayed because he loved you too much to leave you alone in it. She said he was planning to take us away before the accident."
Benedict’s jaw tightened, the extremely short stubble on his face catching the light of the fire. The grief, buried for twenty years, flared violently in his cold eyes.
"Do you know why I never married until now?" Benedict asked, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "Did you think I wanted a wife like Alessandra, or did I simply need an alliance strong enough to hunt down the men who caused the 'accident'?"
Cora gasped, her expressive brows lifting in shock. "You... you know who killed him?"
"Will you trust me when I say that the Pierce family owes a debt far greater than just your stolen childhood?" Benedict inquired, his eyes narrowing with a dark, terrifying promise of violence.
Before Cora could process the massive implication of his words, a sharp, urgent knock rattled the oak doors of the suite.
"Boss?" Marcus's gruff voice called out from the hallway. "We have a situation at the front gates."
Benedict didn't flinch. He slowly removed his hand from Cora's shoulder.
"Are they already here, Marcus?" Benedict asked, raising his voice just enough to be heard through the heavy wood.
"Yes, sir. It's Dante Pierce," Marcus replied, opening the door slightly, his scarred face tight with tension. "He has thirty heavily armed men with him. He is demanding you hand over his sister immediately, or they breach the walls."
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Benedict casually adjusted the cuffs of his tailored suit, completely unbothered by the threat of an invading army. He looked back at Cora, offering her a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
"Will you wait here while I negotiate with our guests?" Benedict asked.
