Chapter 8
The sprawling mansion was a hive of quiet, lethal activity as the private doctor finished examining Lydia. The luminous, airy glow of the first floor had given way to the softer, more muted lighting of the master suite. The warm golden hues of the wall sconces guided Marcus, Adrian’s trusted lieutenant, into the room.
Lydia was resting quietly against the pillows, her pain finally dulled by medication, but the emotional exhaustion was evident on her softly oval face. Adrian stood near the fireplace, watching the doctor pack his bag.
"Will she recover fully, Doctor?" Adrian asked, his deep voice a low rumble.
"Physically, she is stable, Mr. Kensington," the older doctor answered softly. "But she requires absolute rest. The trauma was significant."
Adrian nodded, a profound relief washing over his angular face. The doctor quietly exited the room.
Adrian turned his cold, perceptive eyes back to Marcus.
"Are our borders secured?" Adrian asked, stepping out into the hallway to speak privately with his underboss.
"Yes, Boss," Marcus nodded, his American accent crisp. "The entire estate is locked down. The guests have been cleared. But the Shaw family will notice Lucinda is missing by morning. Victor Shaw isn't going to wait for an explanation. This means full-scale war."
"Do the Shaws believe they can survive my wrath after harboring the woman who murdered my child?" Adrian asked, his deeply observant eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
"They have numbers, Boss. They control the eastern territories," Marcus warned.
"Are the weapons primed in the armory?" Adrian asked, adjusting his wristwatch with a calm, terrifying precision.
"Fully loaded and distributed to the men, sir."
"Will you ensure the perimeter is fortified with heavy artillery before dawn?" Adrian asked.
"Consider it done," Marcus bowed his head respectfully and hurried down the hall.
Adrian stepped back into the master suite. He walked over to the bed, looking down at Lydia. The beautiful housemaid was watching him, her expressive eyes drawn together in quiet empathy.
"Are you aware of the danger you have just invited into your life, Lydia?" Adrian asked, his deep voice a low, mesmerizing rumble as he sat on the edge of the bed.
Lydia looked up into Adrian’s cold, perceptive eyes. The warm light from the fireplace illuminated the powerful, masculine breadth of his shoulders. She was a housemaid, a woman paid to clean and serve, yet the mafia boss was looking at her with a level of respect and devotion he usually reserved for his most trusted lieutenants.
"I know Lucinda's family is very powerful, Adrian," Lydia answered honestly, using his first name naturally now. "I know they will come looking for her. I know this means war."
"Do you believe I fear a war with the men who stole our child?" Adrian asked, stepping closer to her.
"No," Lydia replied softly. "I think you are going to destroy them."
Adrian stared at her, captivated by the movie-star beauty of her delicate cheekbones and the quiet courage in her eyes. The sophisticated black maid dress she still wore highlighted the feminine perfection of her silhouette, but it was her unwavering loyalty that truly drew his attention.
"Will you accept a change in your employment, Lydia?" Adrian asked suddenly, shifting the topic with whiplash speed.
May you like
Lydia blinked, her softly oval face registering confusion. "A change?"
"Do you believe your talents are best utilized dusting mirrors and serving dinner?" Adrian asked, his tattooed fingers gently brushing against the soft curve of her jawline.
