Chapter 5
The garden, previously crowded and loud, was now eerily quiet. The natural, cinematic lighting continued to cast soft, golden highlights over the manicured lawn, a beautiful backdrop to the devastation of the afternoon. The fifty guests began to nervously murmur, eager to distance themselves from the violence and the sudden, brutal restructuring of the family hierarchy.
Basil turned his back on the retreating figure of his cousin. He looked down at the woman standing steadfastly beside him.
Odile’s black maid dress was spotless, but her expressive eyes were wide with residual adrenaline. She finally lowered her hands, the dry linen towel dropping back to the side of her white apron.
"Are you unharmed, Odile?" Basil asked, his deep voice softening significantly, intended only for her ears.
"I'm fine, sir," Odile breathed, looking up into his handsome face. "Does your face burn?"
"I am entirely uninjured, thanks to you," Basil replied, his tattooed fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from the lace of her maid headband. "Why did you put yourself in danger? He could have ordered them to shoot you."
"I couldn't watch him do that to you," Odile said simply, her voice steady and unwavering. "Not to you."
Basil stared at her, the depth of her quiet loyalty staggering him. She had assaulted a high-ranking family member in front of the entire syndicate to protect his dignity.
"You realize that by striking him, you have made yourself a target for anyone loyal to his faction?" Basil asked, his thumb lightly tracing the line of her delicate cheekbone.
"I don't care," Odile whispered, leaning slightly into his touch. "I did what was right."
"Do you believe I will allow anyone to lay a hand on you while I draw breath?" Basil asked, the question serving as an absolute, unbreakable vow.
"No," Odile smiled, a soft, beautiful expression that lit up her rosy face. "I know you won't."
Before the quiet intimacy of the moment could settle, Marcus returned, his face grim and pale. He didn't look like a man who had just successfully detained a traitor.
"Is he secured, Marcus?" Basil asked, stepping slightly in front of Odile, sensing the shift in his lieutenant's demeanor.
"He's in the basement, Boss," Marcus said quickly. "But there is a problem. A major problem."
"Are you going to explain, or must I guess?" Basil demanded, his voice hardening.
"When we locked him in, we noticed the perimeter," Marcus swallowed hard. "The security cameras on the east wall are dead. And two of the outer guards are missing from their posts. Someone hit the perimeter while we were distracted by the fight."
Basil’s jaw tightened. The timing was too perfect. Hollis’s theatrical assault hadn't just been a power play; it had been a loud, flashy distraction designed to draw every eye in the garden away from the edges of the estate.
"Lock down the house," Basil ordered instantly. "Get the guests inside the main hall and secure the doors. Nobody leaves."
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He turned back to Odile, his cold, observant eyes scanning the tree line beyond the manicured lawns.
"We need to move. Now," Basil stated, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the heavy glass doors of the mansion.
