Chapter 4
The morning sun struggled to pierce the thick, grey winter clouds hanging heavily over the Whitmore estate. Inside the mansion, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. The delicate Christmas decorations in the ballroom had been abandoned, replaced by the grim reality of a mafia stronghold preparing for a siege. Heavily armed guards patrolled the hallways, the windows were reinforced with steel shutters, and the gates were locked down with armored vehicles.
Megan stood in the center of the massive, luxurious master suite, holding Oliver against her shoulder as he burped softly. She was no longer wearing the fitted black maid dress. By Elias’s strict orders, she had been provided with a soft, charcoal-grey cashmere sweater and tailored black trousers. Her loose strands of hair were finally brushed and pulled back into a neat, elegant clip. She felt like an imposter, standing in the mafia king's bedroom.
Rosie was sitting on the massive four-poster bed, watching cartoons on a tablet, blissfully unaware of the violence brewing outside the thick stone walls.
A sharp knock at the door preceded Elias’s entrance. He was dressed in a dark turtleneck that clung to his muscular chest, a shoulder holster strapped over his muscles carrying a heavy pistol. The small artistic tattoo above his collar was stark against his fair skin. He looked exhausted, yet thrumming with dangerous, calculated focus.
"Did you sleep?" Elias asked, his dark eyes immediately assessing her pale, rosy skin for signs of distress.
"A little," Megan replied, swaying gently to soothe the newborn. "Oliver slept through the night. I think he knew he was finally safe."
Elias’s sharp features softened slightly at the sight of the infant. He walked closer, looking down at the tiny, fragile life that had nearly been erased. He reached out with a tattooed finger, gently stroking the baby's soft cheek.
"He's a strong boy," Elias murmured. "He takes after his mother."
Megan’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink. "Elias... what is happening out there?"
Elias’s jaw tightened, the mafia boss returning to the forefront. "Victor Voss sent an ultimatum an hour ago. He wants me to hand you and the boy over, and publicly apologize to Celine for breaking the engagement. If I refuse, he promises to level this estate."
Megan’s breath hitched, terror flooding her clear eyes. "You have to give us to them, Elias. You can't fight a war over a maid. The Voss family has politicians, they have the docks... they will destroy everything you've built."
Elias reached out, his large hands gently gripping her shoulders. His touch was grounding, forcing her to look up into his fierce, unyielding eyes.
"Listen to me carefully, Megan," Elias said, his voice deadly serious. "I do not negotiate with men who allow their daughters to steal children. I do not hand over the people under my protection to save my own skin."
"They will kill you," Megan whispered, leaning slightly into his touch despite her fears.
"I have survived far worse men than Victor Voss," Elias 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 son, Megan. I broke it because I realized I was letting a monster near my daughter, while the woman who truly loves her was scrubbing my floors."
Megan breathed in sharply, stunned by the raw confession. "Elias..."
"I am going to handle the Voss family," Elias 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 Voss family hadn't waited for an answer. The siege had begun.
