Chapter 5
The morning after the reception, the luxurious mansion was unrecognizable. The festive atmosphere had been entirely stripped away, replaced by the grim, hyper-vigilant reality of a mafia stronghold bracing for a siege. Heavily armed guards in tactical gear patrolled the grand hallways, their boots echoing sharply against the marble floors. The iron gates at the perimeter were locked down, reinforced by armored SUVs.
Lena was escorted by two guards into the east wing’s master guest suite—a sprawling, sunlit room with silk drapes and a massive four-poster bed. The fitted black maid dress and rumpled apron had been discarded. By Harrison’s direct orders, her wardrobe had been replaced with soft, luxurious clothing. She now wore a plush cream cashmere sweater that comfortably accommodated her bump, and dark, tailored maternity trousers.
She stood by the reinforced window, looking out over the snow-covered grounds, feeling entirely displaced.
The heavy door opened, and Harrison walked in, accompanied by his most trusted capo, a towering, scarred man named Marco. Harrison had traded his three-piece suit for a dark turtleneck and a shoulder holster, the lethal weapon resting snugly against his ribs.
"The perimeter is secure, boss," Marco reported, his gruff voice filling the room. "We’ve pulled our men from the docks to reinforce the estate. The Wrens are quiet this morning. Too quiet."
"Arthur is regrouping," Harrison replied, his swept-back hair slightly disheveled from a sleepless night of war planning. "He’ll hit our supply lines first to draw us out. Double the guard on the southern armory."
"Understood," Marco nodded, glancing respectfully at Lena before leaving the room and closing the door.
Harrison crossed the suite, his expression softening instantly as he approached Lena. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his hands gently over her stomach. He pressed a warm kiss to her temple.
"Did you sleep?" he murmured against her skin.
"A little," Lena admitted, leaning back against his broad chest. The scent of his cologne, mixed with a hint of gunpowder, was surprisingly grounding. "It feels strange, Harrison. Yesterday I was polishing the silver in the dining room. Today, there are men with rifles standing outside my door."
"You should never have been polishing silver in the first place," Harrison said, his voice laced with lingering guilt. He turned her around to face him. "I need you to listen to me, Lena. The Wrens are not going to take last night's insult lightly. This house is a fortress, but I have to leave the estate to manage the fallout."
Lena’s heart spiked with instant panic. She grabbed his forearms. "You have to leave? Harrison, no. If Arthur is waiting for you—"
"I have to secure the ports," Harrison interrupted gently, his dark eyes intense and unwavering. "If Arthur takes the shipments, I lose the leverage I need to crush him. I won't be gone long. Marco is leaving his best men to guard this hallway. You and Archie are not to leave this suite."
"I'm scared," she whispered, her clear eyes welling with tears.
May you like
"I know," he said, pulling her into a tight, fierce embrace. "But I need you to be brave for our baby. And for Archie. I will come back to you, Lena. I swear it on my life."
He pulled back, offering her a reassuring, dimpled smile that matched his son's, before turning and striding out of the room. As the heavy door clicked shut, the silence of the suite pressed in on Lena, heavy and terrifying. The war had officially begun.
