Chapter 7
The bright, luminous colors of the dining hall felt like a stark, surreal backdrop to the devastating emotional resolution unfolding at the head of the table. Damian stood perfectly still, his tailored dark three-piece suit an anchor of masculine authority in the chaotic aftermath. He took a slow, controlled breath, the tension bleeding out of his broad, powerful shoulders.
He turned his full attention back to the beautiful housemaid and his young daughter. The cold, terrifying edge of the Mafia boss softened considerably as he looked down at little Grace.
The six-year-old girl was crying softly, burying her face into Lara's white apron. The relief of finally speaking the truth, of finally unburdening herself from the terrifying secret she had carried, was overwhelming.
Damian slowly dropped to one knee, entirely disregarding his expensive clothing. He brought himself down to the child's eye level. He reached out with his heavily tattooed hand, his fingers moving with profound, unexpected gentleness. He gently brushed a tear from Grace's fair, rosy cheek.
"Are you safe now, my daughter?" Damian asked, his deep voice returning to a warm, comforting rumble.
Grace sniffled, looking at the tall, imposing man with wide, innocent eyes. She nodded slowly, throwing her small arms around his thick neck. Damian closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, holding the girl tightly, an overwhelming surge of grief and protective fury crashing over him.
After a long moment, Damian stood back up. He turned his perceptive gaze toward the housemaid who had risked everything to protect them both. Lara stood quietly in her sophisticated black maid dress, her hands neatly folded over her white apron. Her softly oval face was pale from the adrenaline, but her expressive brows were relaxed.
"Will you allow my private physician to examine your arm immediately, Lara?" Damian asked, looking up into her eyes.
"Of course, Mr. Hollis," Lara replied, her American accent steadying as she wiped a stray tear from her own cheek. "It is just a bruise. I am fine."
"Do you understand the magnitude of the debt I owe you tonight?" Damian asked, looking deeply into her delicate features.
Lara’s fair, rosy cheeks flushed a delicate pink under his intense, perceptive gaze. "I only did what was right, sir. I couldn't let her hurt Grace anymore."
"Is bravery not the rarest commodity in our world?" Damian questioned, bowing his head slightly in a profound gesture of respect. "Will you assist my daughter to her suite, Lara? Will you stay with her until I return?"
May you like
"I won't leave her side, Mr. Hollis," Lara promised, reaching out to gently take Grace's hand.
Damian watched them walk toward the heavy double doors leading to the residential wing. His angular face, usually a mask of impenetrable authority, softened with a rare, genuine gratitude. A young woman in a maid's uniform had demonstrated a courage that surpassed his fiercest soldiers, changing the entire trajectory of his family.
