Chapter 4
The morning sun cast long, cold shadows across the snow-covered grounds of the Whitmore estate. The sprawling mansion, usually bustling with domestic staff preparing for the day, was eerily quiet. In place of the gardeners and valets, heavily armed men in dark tactical gear patrolled the perimeter. The front gates were locked, reinforced with armored SUVs. The declaration of war had been silently accepted by the Rowe syndicate the moment Sabrina was thrown out.
Megan stood by the window of the opulent guest suite Dante had moved her into during the night. She was no longer wearing the fitted black maid dress. Instead, a soft cashmere sweater and tailored trousers had been provided for her. Her hands were still bandaged, resting uselessly at her sides. She felt entirely helpless, watching the army assemble outside because of her.
A sharp knock at the door made her jump. Before she could answer, Dante walked in. He had discarded his suit jacket and tie, wearing a crisp black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing more intricate negative space tattoos along his forearms. A shoulder holster was strapped across his broad chest, carrying a heavy pistol.
"Did you sleep?" Dante asked, his eyes immediately assessing her pale, rosy skin for signs of distress.
"A little," Megan replied, stepping away from the window. "Where is Felix?"
"He's eating breakfast in the safe wing with three of my best men," Dante said, crossing the room to stand before her. "The estate is on absolute lockdown. Sabrina's father, Marcus Rowe, sent an ultimatum an hour ago. He wants me to hand you over as an apology for breaking the engagement and insulting his daughter."
Megan’s breath hitched, terror flooding her clear eyes. "You have to give me to them, Dante. You can't fight a war over a maid. The Rowes have politicians, they have the docks... they will destroy everything you've built."
Dante reached out, his large hands gently cupping her face. His thumbs brushed lightly against her cheekbones, his touch grounding her spiraling panic.
"I am the head of the Whitmore family," Dante said, his voice hard and uncompromising. "I do not negotiate with men who allow their daughters to torture women. I do not hand over the people I care about to save my own skin."
"They will kill you," Megan whispered, leaning into his touch despite her fears.
"I have survived far worse men than Marcus Rowe," Dante murmured, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips before meeting her eyes again. "I didn't break the engagement just because of what she did to your hands, Megan. I broke it because I realized I was letting a monster near my son, while the woman who truly loves him was scrubbing my floors."
"Dante..." Megan breathed, stunned by the raw confession.
"I am going to handle the Rowes," Dante stated, stepping back and checking the magazine of his weapon. "You stay in this room. The glass is bulletproof, and there are guards at the end of the hall. No matter what you hear, do not open this door for anyone but me."
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Before Megan could say another word, a deafening explosion rocked the eastern wing of the mansion. The floorboards shuddered violently, and the blaring wail of the estate's security alarms shattered the morning silence.
The Rowe family hadn't waited for an answer. The siege had begun.
