Chapter 10
Nathaniel 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 Celine’s father inevitable, but the immediate, toxic sickness within his home had been surgically removed. Now, he had to secure his daughter and the woman who had suffered to protect them.
He turned his body, pivoting seamlessly on the polished marble floors, and focused his entire attention back on Elena and Poppy.
Elena was still sitting on the velvet ottoman, her hands trembling as she smoothed her rumpled white apron. Her beautiful features were pale, her eyes still puffy and red from her earlier tears, and her disheveled hair fell loosely around her face. She was looking down at Poppy, who was still holding onto the edge of her apron.
Nathaniel crouched down, his tailored suit shifting, and looked his daughter in the eye.
"Are you unharmed, Poppy?" Nathaniel asked, his deep voice softening significantly, losing its lethal, interrogative edge.
Poppy looked at the towering mafia boss, her innocent eyes wide. "I'm okay, Daddy. Did Auntie Celine go to timeout?"
"She did, sweetheart," Nathaniel murmured, his thumb gently brushing his daughter's soft, rosy cheek. "You are a very brave girl. You helped us find the truth."
He stood back up and shifted his gaze to Elena.
The beautiful housemaid was watching him, her exhausted eyes drawn together in quiet empathy. She had endured psychological and physical torment simply because she had shared a single dance with him. The fierce, gentle loyalty she had displayed was a rare, precious commodity in Nathaniel's dark, violent world.
"Are you injured, Elena?" Nathaniel asked softly, stepping closer to her, his imposing frame casting a protective shadow over her trembling figure.
"No, Mr. Ashford," Elena answered gently, slowly standing taller, her graceful posture returning despite her disheveled state. "I am perfectly fine."
"You are not fine, and you are no longer a maid in this house," Nathaniel stated, his voice a low, gravelly command laced with profound affection. "From this moment forward, you answer to no one but me. You will move into the secure wing tonight with Poppy."
Elena’s breath hitched. The magnitude of the offer, and the safety it provided, was overwhelming. The warm, golden light of the chandeliers caught the fresh tears welling in her eyes, this time born of absolute relief.
"Thank you, Nathaniel," Elena whispered.
Before Nathaniel could respond, the heavy mahogany doors of the salon burst open again. A bloodied security operative stumbled into the room, gasping for breath.
"Is the perimeter breached?" Nathaniel asked, spinning around, his hand already reaching for the concealed weapon beneath his vest.
"Yes, Boss!" the operative choked out. "The Mercer syndicate didn't wait! Celine's personal guards got a signal out before we disarmed them! They hit the outer gates! We have multiple hostiles on the grounds!"
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Nathaniel looked back at Elena, his cold, perceptive eyes burning with an unyielding, protective fire.
"Shall we show them exactly what it costs to threaten my family?" Nathaniel asked the quiet room, racking the slide of his handgun as the estate's high-pitched security sirens began to wail, signaling the brutal beginning of a mafia war.
