Chapter 6 - The Traitor's Trap
Back at Marchetti Manor, the atmosphere was growing increasingly domestic, despite the storm gathering outside the gates.
Corsica spent her afternoon in the sunlit conservatory, sitting on a plush velvet bench while Ros and Letty showed her their favorite books, describing the pictures to her in vivid, enthusiastic detail.
"The dragon is blue, Auntie Corsica!" Letty explained, pointing her small finger at the page. "And he has big shiny wings like Daddy’s shiny car!"
"He sounds very handsome," Corsica laughed softly, her dark glasses resting on her lap now. Without the glasses, her eyes were a soft, milky hazel—unfocused, but striking and beautiful.
Paxton stood by the open French doors leading out to the garden, watching her laugh. His heart felt lighter than it had in three long years. Seeing her with his children was like watching sunlight break through a decade of dark clouds.
He walked over and sat beside her on the bench. The children quickly bounded off toward the garden to chase a butterfly with Nero trotting lazily behind them.
"You have a beautiful laugh," Paxton said softly, turning his head to look at her profile.
Corsica blushed slightly, her cheeks dusting with a soft rose color. "I haven't had much reason to laugh over the last few years, Paxton. Living in hiding... always waiting for the door to be kicked in... it leaves very little room for joy."
"You don't have to look over your shoulder anymore," Paxton said, taking her hand gently in his. His large thumb stroked the back of her soft palm. "I've doubled the perimeter security. The estate is impenetrable."
"You shouldn't make promises you can't guarantee, Paxton," Corsica warned gently, though she didn't pull her hand away. "Men like Dominic Brennan don't care about perimeters. They care about weakness."
"You're not a weakness, Corsica," Paxton whispered, his voice intense and deeply intimate. "You're the second chance I never deserved."
Before Corsica could answer, a sudden commotion erupted near the front foyer of the house. The sharp sound of raised voices echoed down the hall, followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the floor.
Paxton instantly pulled his weapon from his shoulder holster, pushing Corsica behind him on the bench. "Stay here."
Nero came bounding back into the conservatory, his ears pinned back, standing protectively in front of the children who scrambled behind his massive bulk.
Gideon stumbled into the conservatory, clutching his blood-soaked abdomen. He collapsed against a marble pillar, gasping for air.
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"Gideon!" Paxton yelled, rushing to his underboss’s side and applying pressure to the gushing wound. "What happened?!"
"The perimeter... compromised..." Gideon gasped, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Vance... Vance paid off three of our gate guards. They opened the back service entrances... Dominic Brennan’s men are inside the house!"
