Chapter 6
He lowered the phone and looked at the broken socialite one last time.
"Have you finally realized the price of your ambition, Camille?" Adrian asked softly, as the heavy doors of the dining room burst open.
Two massive security guards in dark suits entered the room. They marched forward without a word, hauling Camille roughly to her feet. She shrieked, thrashing wildly against their iron grip, but they were unyielding.
"You will regret this, Adrian!" she screamed as they dragged her backward toward the doors. "You will all burn for this!"
"Will you convey my deepest regards to your father when I send him the pieces of his syndicate?" Adrian asked quietly, watching the mahogany doors slam shut behind her.
The profound, ringing silence of the grand dining room settled heavily over the remaining three figures. The tiered crystal chandeliers continued to cast their warm golden light over the abandoned porcelain plates and half-empty crystal wine glasses. The opulent space, designed for celebration, now felt entirely different—it was a war room.
Adrian stood silently for a moment, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a slow, controlled breath. The betrayal was absolute, the upcoming syndicate war with Camille’s father inevitable, but the immediate, toxic sickness within his home had been surgically removed. Now, he had to secure his son and the woman who had protected him.
He turned his body, pivoting seamlessly on the cream marble floor, and walked toward Holly and Owen.
Holly was still kneeling on the floor, holding Owen tightly in her arms. The elegant black maid dress contrasted sharply with the boy’s navy suit. Owen had buried his face in the crook of Holly’s neck, his small body trembling from the shouting and the sudden violence of Camille’s removal. Teddy the spaniel was curled up tightly against Holly's knees. Holly was gently stroking the child's hair, her softly oval face etched with deep, maternal relief.
Adrian stopped beside them, his imposing, masculine frame casting a protective shadow over the housemaid and his son.
"Are you unharmed, Owen?" Adrian asked, his deep voice softening significantly, losing its lethal, interrogative edge.
Owen turned his head, his fair, rosy cheeks stained with fresh tears. He looked at the towering mafia boss, his eyes searching for reassurance. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Are you going to be mad at me?"
"Would I ever be angry with you for telling me the truth about that woman?" Adrian asked, reaching out to gently cup the boy’s cheek.
Owen sniffled, leaning into his father's large, tattooed hand. "No."
"Are you a brave boy?" Adrian asked, his thumb brushing away a tear.
"Yes," Owen nodded, his small chin trembling.
Adrian shifted his gaze to Holly. The beautiful housemaid was watching him, her expressive eyes drawn together in quiet empathy. She had risked her job, her physical safety, and her life by exposing the electronic collar and standing against the fiancée of a mafia boss. The fierce loyalty she had displayed was a rare, precious commodity in Adrian's dark, violent world.
"Are you injured, Holly?" Adrian asked, his cold, perceptive eyes scanning her delicate features.
"No, Mr. Blackwell," Holly answered softly, her graceful posture unwavering even as she knelt on the floor. "I am perfectly fine."
"Will you take Owen up to the secure wing and stay with him until I come for you?" Adrian asked, holding her gaze with an intensity that sent a sudden, warm flutter through Holly’s chest.
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"Yes, Mr. Blackwell," Holly replied, her rosy cheeks flushing slightly under his intense focus.
Adrian stood up, watching as the beautiful housemaid took his son's hand, scooped up the spaniel puppy, and led them out of the luminous dining room through a discrete service door.
