Chapter 10
He lowered the phone and looked at the broken socialite one last time.
"Have you finally realized the price of your ambition, Isabel?" Lucian asked softly, as the heavy mahogany doors of the salon burst open.
Vincent and another massive security guard in dark suits entered the room. They marched forward without a word, hauling Isabel roughly to her feet. She shrieked, thrashing wildly against their iron grip, but they were unyielding.
"You will regret this, Lucian!" she screamed as they dragged her backward toward the doors. "You will all burn for this!"
"Will you convey my deepest regards to your father when I send him the pieces of his syndicate?" Lucian asked quietly, watching the doors slam shut.
The profound, ringing silence of the grand salon settled heavily over the remaining three figures. The cascading crystal chandeliers continued to cast their warm golden light over the open floor hatch and the towering Christmas tree. The opulent space, designed for celebration, now felt entirely different—it was a sanctuary of protection.
Lucian stood silently for a moment, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a slow, controlled breath. The betrayal was absolute, the upcoming syndicate war with Isabel’s father inevitable, but the immediate, toxic sickness within his home had been surgically removed. Now, he had to secure his daughter and the woman who had suffered to protect them.
He turned his body, pivoting seamlessly on the polished marble floors, and focused his entire attention back on Faye.
Faye was still kneeling on the floor beside the hatch, her hands trembling as she smoothed her lightly creased white apron. Her beautiful features were pale, her eyes wide with a mixture of residual terror and profound, protective relief. She looked up at the towering mafia boss, her breathing shallow and ragged.
Lucian crouched down, his tailored suit shifting, and looked at the housemaid.
"Are you unharmed, Faye?" Lucian asked, his deep voice softening significantly, losing its lethal, interrogative edge.
Faye looked at him, her expressive eyes filling with fresh tears. "I'm okay, Mr. Hale. Is Rosie okay?"
"She is going to be perfectly fine," Lucian murmured, his thumb gently brushing his daughter's back as she slept against his chest. "Because you were very brave. You saved her life tonight."
He stood back up and shifted his gaze fully onto Faye. The gentle loyalty she had displayed was a rare, precious commodity in Lucian's dark, violent world. She had defied a monster to save a child who was not her own.
"You are no longer a maid in this house," Lucian stated, his voice a low, gravelly command laced with profound affection. "From this moment forward, you answer to no one but me. You will move into the secure wing tonight with Rosie."
Faye’s breath hitched. The magnitude of the offer, and the absolute safety it provided, was overwhelming. "Thank you, Lucian," she whispered, the formality dropping away in the quiet intimacy of the room.
Before Lucian could respond, the heavy mahogany doors of the salon burst open again. A bloodied security operative stumbled into the room, gasping for breath.
"Is the perimeter breached?" Lucian asked, spinning around, his hand already reaching for the concealed weapon beneath his vest.
"Yes, Boss!" the operative choked out. "The Cross syndicate didn't wait! Isabel's personal guards got a signal out before we disarmed them! They hit the outer gates! We have multiple hostiles on the grounds!"
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Lucian looked back at Faye, his cold, perceptive eyes burning with an unyielding, protective fire.
"Shall we show them exactly what it costs to threaten my family?" Lucian asked the quiet room, racking the slide of his handgun with a sharp, metallic clatter as the estate's high-pitched security sirens began to wail, signaling the brutal beginning of a mafia war.
