Chapter 9
"Is the rival syndicate dismantled?" Basil asked Marcus, who had just entered through the ruined front doors, his suit dusted with white plaster.
"Yes, Boss," the operative reported grimly. "Hollis's loyalists in the city tried to stage a secondary coup while the house was under attack. We crushed them. The territory is entirely yours."
"And Hollis?" Basil asked, his voice a low, vibrating rumble.
"He confessed to everything in the holding cells once he heard the gunfire stop," Marcus replied, a cruel smile touching his face. "Including the details of your father's murder. We recorded it all."
"Will you ensure our legal team provides the prosecutors with every piece of evidence we possess on his remaining allies?" Basil asked.
"Consider it done, Mr. Ainsworth."
Marcus exited, leaving Basil alone with Odile in the bright, golden morning light. The war had been swift, devastating, and absolute. The syndicate was purged of its poison.
"Are you ready to see what the future holds for us, Odile?" Basil asked, offering his heavily tattooed hand to her.
"I am ready," Odile smiled, placing her hand firmly in his.
"Will you accept a change in your employment?" Basil asked suddenly, shifting the topic with whiplash speed.
Odile blinked, her expressive brows furrowing in confusion. "A change, sir?"
"Do you believe your talents are best utilized dusting mirrors and serving whisky?" Basil asked, taking a slow step toward her.
Odile’s breath hitched in her throat. The imposing frame of the mafia boss filled her vision.
"What kind of change, Basil?" Odile asked, her heart racing against her ribs.
"Would you prefer to assume the role of my equal, answering to no one in this house but me?" Basil asked.
Odile stared at him, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the offer. It was a position of high respect and immense trust, offering a life and security that far exceeded her role as a housemaid. It meant she would no longer be invisible; she would be a central figure in the life of the mafia boss's family.
"Are you serious?" Odile asked, a radiant, beautiful smile breaking across her fair, rosy face.
"Have I ever joked about the people under my protection?" Basil asked, stopping just inches from her.
"I would be honored," Odile whispered.
"Will you trust me to keep you safe?" Basil asked, his voice a low, gravelly promise.
"Always," Odile replied without hesitation.
Basil raised his tattooed hand, his knuckles gently brushing against the soft curve of her jawline. It was a fleeting, electric touch that promised a future far more complicated than employer and employee.
"Shall we go check on the pavilion?" Basil asked softly, offering her his arm.
May you like
Odile smiled, wrapping her arm securely through his. "Lead the way."
They walked out of the mansion and onto the terrace. The air was cool and crisp, the morning sun casting long, beautiful shadows across the manicured lawns. The damage from the attack was mostly confined to the front gates; the rear gardens remained pristine and untouched by the violence of the night before.
