Chapter 10
He turned his body, pivoting seamlessly on the polished marble floors, and focused his entire attention back on Mia and Ella.
Mia was still standing beside the Christmas tree, her hands trembling as she held the severed, ribbon-tied braid. Her beautiful features were pale, her eyes still puffy and red from her earlier tears, and her unevenly shortened hair fell loosely around her face. She was looking down at Ella, who was still holding tightly to her free hand.
Damian crouched down, his tailored suit shifting, and looked his daughter in the eye.
"Are you unharmed, Ella?" Damian asked, his deep voice softening significantly, losing its lethal, interrogative edge.
Ella looked at the towering mafia boss, her innocent eyes wide. "I'm okay, Daddy. Did Auntie go to timeout?"
"She did, sweetheart," Damian murmured, his thumb gently brushing his daughter's soft round cheek. "You are a very brave girl. You helped us find the truth."
He stood back up and shifted his gaze to Mia.
The beautiful housemaid was watching him, her exhausted eyes drawn together in quiet empathy. She had endured psychological and physical torment simply because he had paid her a passing compliment. The fierce, gentle loyalty she had displayed was a rare, precious commodity in Damian's dark, violent world.
"Are you injured anywhere else, Mia?" Damian asked softly, stepping closer to her, his imposing frame casting a protective shadow over her trembling figure.
"No, Mr. Voss," Mia answered gently, slowly standing taller, her graceful posture returning despite her disheveled state. "I am perfectly fine."
"You are not fine, and you are no longer a maid in this house," Damian 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 Ella."
Mia’s breath hitched. The magnitude of the offer, and the safety it provided, was overwhelming. The warm, golden light of the chandeliers caught the fresh tears welling in her eyes, this time born of absolute relief.
"Thank you, Damian," Mia whispered, the formality dropping away in the quiet intimacy of the room.
Before Damian could respond, the heavy mahogany doors of the ballroom burst open again. A bloodied security operative stumbled into the room, gasping for breath.
"Is the perimeter breached?" Damian asked, spinning around, his hand already reaching for the concealed weapon beneath his vest.
"Yes, Boss!" the operative choked out. "The Shaw syndicate didn't wait! Juliette'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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Damian looked back at Mia, his cold, perceptive eyes burning with an unyielding, protective fire.
"Shall we show them exactly what it costs to threaten my family?" Damian 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.
