Chapter 7
The heavy mahogany doors of the dining room closed silently behind them, cutting off the sounds of the staff beginning to clean the ruined engagement dinner. The sprawling corridors of the Ashford mansion were bathed in the same bright, airy light, casting long shadows across the marble floors.
Dominic walked purposefully toward the grand staircase, his powerful shoulders squared. He didn't look back to ensure Nora was following; he knew she was. The soft, rhythmic click of her sensible maid shoes echoed slightly behind his heavy, polished leather footsteps.
"Are you in pain?" Dominic asked, his deep voice breaking the heavy silence without him turning his head.
"It's manageable, Mr. Ashford," Nora replied softly. She was still cradling her right wrist against the white apron of her sophisticated black dress. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the throbbing ache where Vivienne had grabbed her was becoming undeniable.
"My private physician is waiting in the east wing," Dominic stated, a statement of fact rather than a suggestion. "He will examine your wrist before you retire for the evening."
"That isn't necessary, sir. It's just a sprain," Nora protested mildly, uncomfortable with the idea of a mafia doctor treating hired help.
Dominic stopped at the base of the grand staircase. He turned slowly, his cold, perceptive eyes locking onto her delicate, oval face. The cinematic lighting highlighted the subtle, expressive lift of her brows and the genuine apprehension in her eyes.
"Is it?" Dominic asked softly.
He reached out with his right hand, the refined artistic tattoos standing out starkly against his fair, rosy skin. He didn't grab her; he simply held his hand out, palm up, in a silent request.
Nora hesitated for a fraction of a second. The physical proximity of the dangerous, deeply masculine boss was overwhelming. But she slowly extended her injured arm, placing her bandaged wrist gently into his large, warm hand.
Dominic’s touch was incredibly gentle, a stark contrast to the violent force she had seen him exert just minutes prior. He carefully inspected the crude bandage she had wrapped around her own wrist earlier in the day. His thumb lightly brushed the edge of her crisp white cuff.
"She grabbed you when you tried to unlock the restraint," Dominic deduced, his jawline tightening noticeably.
"Yes," Nora whispered, looking down at his tattooed fingers. "I heard your mother crying. I found the key in Ms. Shaw's vanity. I was trying to get the cuff off before the dinner started, but she caught me. She told me if I said anything, she would ensure I never found work in this city again."
"And yet, you dropped the key on the table in front of fifty men," Dominic murmured, looking up from her wrist to meet her eyes. "You knew the risk. You knew the violence that would follow. Why did you do it?"
Nora swallowed hard, her heart fluttering erratically under his intense scrutiny. "Because she was terrified, Mr. Ashford. Nobody deserves to be locked in the dark. Especially not family."
Dominic stared at her for a long, agonizing moment. The coldness in his perceptive eyes melted entirely, replaced by a profound, terrifying intensity. He was a man who ruled an empire built on fear and loyalty, and he had just witnessed an act of pure, unselfish courage from a woman who had absolutely nothing to gain.
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"You are a remarkably brave woman, Nora," Dominic said quietly, his low voice wrapping around her like a heavy blanket. He gently released her wrist. "Come. I need to see my mother."
He turned and began climbing the stairs. Nora followed him, her heart pounding, realizing that her life had just irrevocably changed. She was no longer just a housemaid; she was the woman who had saved the king's mother.
