Chapter 10
The towering Christmas tree continued to sparkle with golden lights and crimson ribbons, a surreal, festive backdrop to the brutal mafia justice that had just been executed. Dorian stood perfectly still for a long moment, the adrenaline of the confrontation slowly ebbing from his system, leaving behind a profound, aching exhaustion.
He had defended his home and protected the woman who had quietly suffered to expose the truth, but the political fallout with the Hale family would inevitably ignite a massive war in the coming days. Serena's father, a powerful underboss with deep ties to the eastern ports, would not let the imprisonment of his daughter go unanswered. Blood would inevitably spill on the snow before the new year.
Dorian let out a slow, controlled breath. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, rolling his broad shoulders to release the coiled tension. He looked at the beige maternity cushion resting on the velvet sofa, a fierce, protective rage continuing to burn in his chest. He needed to secure his son. He needed to ensure the estate was locked down before the Hale syndicate realized the coup had failed.
He turned and strode purposefully out of the grand salon, ascending the marble staircase two steps at a time. His polished shoes were silent on the thick carpet as he headed straight for his private quarters on the second floor.
He approached the heavy wooden door of the master suite. Two enforcers stood guard, their hands resting on their holstered weapons. They nodded respectfully as the boss approached.
"Is the perimeter secure?" Dorian asked, his deep voice carrying a quiet urgency.
"Yes, Boss. No one has entered or exited the wing," the lead guard confirmed, stepping aside to open the heavy door for him.
Dorian stepped into his private quarters. The room was bathed in the soft, warm glow of a roaring fireplace. Owen was sitting on the edge of the massive four-poster bed, looking small and fragile in his cream knitted shirt. Sitting on the floor right beside him, speaking in a low, soothing voice, was Aria Bennett.
The maid had removed her rumpled white apron, folding it neatly over her lap. Her black dress was still creased, but her delicate features radiated a fierce, protective warmth. As Dorian entered, Aria immediately stood up, smoothing her skirt, her expressive eyes darting to his face to read the outcome of the confrontation downstairs.
"Daddy!" Owen cried, jumping out of the bed and running across the room.
Dorian dropped to one knee, catching his son perfectly as the boy threw his small arms around his broad shoulders. He buried his face in Owen's soft curls, closing his eyes tightly, inhaling the innocent scent of his child amidst a world of violence.
"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm right here," Dorian murmured, his deep voice thick with emotion.
"Is Auntie Serena coming back?" Owen asked, his voice innocent and confused.
"Never," Dorian said fiercely, pulling back to look directly into his son's eyes. "You are my entire world, Owen. No one will ever hurt you or lie to you again. The woman who did those things is gone."
Dorian looked up at Aria. She was standing quietly by the armchair, her hands clasped together, her graceful posture a testament to her quiet strength. She had risked her life to confront Serena, and in doing so, had saved him from a monstrous deception.
May you like
"Aria," Dorian said softly, standing up and taking a slow step toward the beautiful maid. "I owe you a debt I can never repay. From this moment on, you are under my direct, personal protection."
Aria looked into the dark, burning eyes of the mafia boss, realizing that the war for the estate was only just beginning, and that she would be standing right by his side when it arrived.
