Chapter 6 - Blood and Promises
The aftermath of the raid was handled with terrifying efficiency.
By sunrise, the blood was scrubbed from the Italian marble, the broken glass was replaced, and the bodies had vanished as if they had never existed. But the atmosphere inside the estate had irrevocably shifted.
Josiah sat behind his massive mahogany desk in the study, his hand cradling a crystal glass of amber scotch. The sun was rising, casting long, golden fingers of light across the room.
The door opened quietly, and Willow stepped in. She had cleaned the soot from her hands and changed into a simple woolen sweater, but the exhaustion was heavy on her shoulders.
"Mia is sleeping," Willow said softly. "The trauma... it shook her, but she knows she’s safe."
Josiah looked up. The cold, unreadable mask he wore for the world was gone. In its place was a man weighed down by the terrifying realization of what he had almost lost.
"Sit," he said quietly.
Willow walked over and sat in the leather chair across from him.
Josiah slid an envelope across the smooth surface of the desk. Inside was a thick stack of bearer bonds and a cashier's check that carried more zeroes than Willow had ever seen in her life.
"What is this?" she asked, her heart sinking into her stomach.
"It’s enough money to pay off every debt your family has ever owed," Josiah said, his voice flat, emotionless—a terrible cover for the pain behind his eyes. "It’s enough to buy a house anywhere in the world. A car. Security. A complete new life."
Willow stared at the envelope, then raised her eyes to meet his. "Are you firing me?"
"I am protecting you," Josiah barked, standing up so fast his chair rolled back. "Last night was a warning, Willow! They came into my home. They aimed a gun at my chest. And you... you stepped into the fire for me!"
He rounded the desk, leaning down over her, his broad shoulders blocking out the morning sun.
"My world is death, Willow. Everyone who gets close to me ends up six feet in the ground. My wife was murdered in a car that was meant for me. I will not watch you die too. Take the money and leave. Today."
Willow stood up, stepping right into his personal space, refusing to back down an inch.
"Do you think I came here for the money?" she snapped, her eyes blazing with tears and anger.
"You took the job for the money!"
"I took the job because I was drowning!" Willow yelled, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. "And then I met a little girl who was drowning too! And then I met a man who was so dead inside he didn't even realize he was suffocating!"
Josiah froze.
Willow put a hand against his chest, right over his beating heart. "I am not leaving her. And I am not leaving you. You can fire me, Mr. Josiah. You can have your guards drag me to the front gate. But don't you dare pretend you're doing this for my good when you're just terrified of loving someone again."
Josiah breathed heavily, his gaze dropping to her lips, then back to her furious, beautiful eyes.
"They will come for you," he whispered, a rare tremor of fear in his voice. "If they know what you mean to me... they will use you."
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"Then let them try," Willow whispered back. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
Josiah let out a low, defeated groan, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her flush against him, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "God help me, Willow... I can't let you go."
