Chapter 3 - Collateral Damage
"No," Maya said, pulling her arm back. "I'm not running away to some gilded cage where your enemies can just surround me. This is my life. My job."
"Your job is a target, and your life has an expiration date if you stay here," Damian countered, his eyes flashing with a dangerous spark. "Sal, close the diner. For the next month, your staff will receive triple their normal wages from my corporate account. If you open these doors before I give the word, I will personally have the city condemn the building for your own safety."
Sal nodded frantically, already pulling down the metal security grates. "Go with him, Maya. Please. I like having my head attached to my shoulders."
Maya looked around the familiar, greasy sanctuary of the diner, realizing with a heavy heart that her illusion of independence was completely shattered. She had saved a king, and now she was trapped on the chessboard.
"Fine," she spat, ripping off her apron and throwing it onto the counter. "But we have a deal, Voss. No cages. I am a guest, not a prisoner."
"Agreed," Damian said, stepping back to let her pass.
The ride out of the city was silent and tense. They drove north, past the towering skyscrapers of Manhattan, entering the affluent, heavily wooded enclaves of Westchester County. The Voss estate was a sprawling, stone fortress surrounded by ten-foot iron gates, security cameras, and armed guards patrolling the perimeter with attack dogs.
As the gates clicked shut behind them, Maya felt a claustrophobic weight settle over her chest. She was safe from the Marcones, but she was now entirely at the mercy of the most feared man in the tri-state area.
May you like
Damian led her through the massive double doors of the mansion. The interior was a stunning blend of gothic architecture and minimalist luxury—dark marble floors, towering oil paintings, and floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over a private lake.
"Marcus will show you to your quarters in the east wing," Damian said, not looking back as he headed toward a set of heavy mahogany doors that clearly led to his private study. "Food will be prepared for you. A doctor will check your bruises from Ricky's little stunt. Rest, Maya. The war starts tomorrow."
