Chapter 4
Nina looked up into Conrad’s cold, perceptive eyes, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. The cascading crystal chandeliers illuminated the intricate, artistic tattoos across his hands as he stood before her. She was a housemaid, a woman paid to dust the gilded mirrors and polish the silver, yet the most powerful man in the city had just dismantled his own future to defend her.
"I am not afraid of you, Mr. Bellamy," Nina answered, her voice a soft, tremulous whisper. "But I am terrified of what I have done. I didn't mean to ruin your evening. I should have just done my job."
"Is mourning your mother a crime that requires an apology?" Conrad asked, his deep, low voice softening into a rare, gentle cadence.
He looked down at Molly. The three-year-old was looking up at her father, her small hands still gripping the crisp white apron of Nina’s sophisticated black dress.
"Are you ready for bed, Molly?" Conrad asked, crouching down so his angular face was level with his daughter's.
"Is Nina going to be okay, Daddy?" Molly asked, her rosy cheeks stained with the faint residue of earlier tears. "Her heart is broken."
"Will we not do everything in our power to help her fix it?" Conrad asked, offering his daughter a small, reassuring smile that transformed his intimidating features.
Molly nodded earnestly, finally releasing Nina’s apron. She threw her small arms around Nina’s legs one last time in a fierce hug, then stepped toward her father. Conrad lifted the little girl effortlessly, settling her against his powerful shoulder.
He stood to his full height and turned his attention back to the housemaid. Nina’s beautiful, softly oval face was etched with deep exhaustion and profound grief.
"Why did you not come to me directly when you received the news?" Conrad asked.
"Miss Price told me that if I disturbed you with staff issues, I would be fired immediately," Nina explained, her expressive brows drawing together. "My mother’s hospital bills... I needed the job, sir. I couldn't risk it."
"Do you believe I would allow a woman to suffer in my home to protect my convenience?" Conrad asked.
He shifted Molly’s weight slightly, his tailored suit shifting flawlessly over his masculine frame. "Are your belongings packed?"
"I don't have anything here, sir. Just my coat in the staff locker," Nina replied.
"Will you retrieve it and meet my men at the front entrance?" Conrad asked. "Will you allow them to drive you to your family?"
Nina hesitated, overwhelmed by his sudden, intense protection. "You don't have to do that, Mr. Bellamy. I can take the bus. You have a war to prepare for now."
"Do you think I would let you travel alone through a city controlled by a family I just insulted?" Conrad asked.
Nina stared at him, realizing the absolute danger she was now in. By defending her, Conrad had made her a target for Valentina’s father.
"Go," Conrad urged gently, though it was still phrased as a question. "Will you go now?"
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"Yes. Thank you, sir," Nina whispered.
She turned and hurried out of the bright, luxurious dining room, her graceful posture carrying her swiftly toward the staff quarters. Conrad watched her go, his eyes tracking the slim fitted silhouette of her dress until she disappeared around the corner. He tightened his hold on his daughter, his mind already calculating the violent, bloody mathematics of the war that would begin before sunrise.
