Chapter 3 - The Price of Protection
The Ashford estate was not a house; it was a fortress disguised as a French neoclassical chateau, nestled deep within five hundred acres of ancient, fenced Westchester woodland. Towering wrought-iron gates bearing the crest of a roaring lion yielded to the motorcade, closing with the definitive sound of a vault.
By the time the convoy pulled up before the sweeping stone staircase, little Penny had fallen sound asleep against Willa’s side.
Throughout the forty-five-minute drive, the girl had refused to sit beside her father, choosing instead to curl her small body into Willa’s lap, her fingers tangled in the fraying hem of Willa’s white shirt. Willa’s maternal instinct had overridden her terror; she had wrapped her arms around the child, softly humming an old lullaby her grandmother used to sing, until Penny’s shallow, anxious breaths had steadied into the deep rhythm of slumber.
When the car door opened, Kendrick stood in the cool night air, watching them. The harsh overhead courtyard lights softened the severe lines of his face as he stared down at his sleeping daughter resting against a stranger’s chest.
"She hasn't slept without night terrors since her mother was killed eighteen months ago," Kendrick said, his tone devoid of its earlier venom, replaced by an uneasy, guarded quiet.
"Children know when a room is full of vipers, Mr. Ashford," Willa whispered, careful not to wake the girl. "She was terrified in that ballroom."
"And she wasn't terrified of you." Kendrick leaned into the car, his broad frame blocking out the night. For a split second, the scent of expensive sandalwood, rain, and clean gunpowder washed over Willa. He reached down to lift Penny, but as he did, the child whined in her sleep, her tiny fists tightening around Willa’s collar.
Kendrick paused, his hand inches from Willa’s collarbone. Their eyes locked in the dim interior of the car. The raw, magnetic intensity of his stare pinned Willa to the seat.
"Carry her inside," he said quietly.
Inside, the manor was a temple of cold marble, antique chandeliers, and sweeping silence. An elderly housekeeper named Mrs. Gable led Willa up a curved double staircase to the child's wing. Willa gently laid Penny into a massive canopy bed, tucked the plush duvet around her small shoulders, and kissed her forehead before stepping back.
Titan immediately curled himself into a massive circle on the rug at the foot of Penny's bed, resting his chin on his paws, watching Willa with warm, intelligent eyes.
"She loves you already, dear," Mrs. Gable said with a soft, knowing smile as she led Willa down the corridor. "And Titan hasn't let a woman near this room since the late Mrs. Ashford passed. Dogs and children see the soul before the face."
"I don't belong here, Mrs. Gable," Willa confessed, rubbing her exhausted arms. "I'm a girl from Greenpoint. I pour cheap coffee and clean up broken glass."
"You're here because Kendrick Ashford willed it," a deep voice cut through the hall.
Kendrick was standing by the arched entrance of a dimly lit library, having discarded his jacket and loosened his black silk tie. A crystal glass of amber scotch rested in his hand. He gestured with his chin toward the room. "Inside, Willa. We need to set the rules."
Willa walked into the library, marveling at the floor-to-ceiling shelves holding thousands of leather-bound books. She remained standing before the massive mahogany desk, refusing the leather wingback chair.
"Rule number one," Kendrick said, leaning against the edge of the desk, studying her like an unsolved equation. "You do not leave this property without my personal escort or a full security detail. Barrett Hayes controls three factions of the commission. He lost face tonight. He will look for leverage, and you are the easiest target."
"And rule number two?" Willa asked, raising her chin.
"Rule number two: tomorrow morning, a stylist and a jeweler will arrive. You will be outfitted in a manner befitting the future mistress of this house."
Willa let out a bitter, breathless laugh. "A mistress? You think I'm going to play dress-up for your mob friends? I'm not a trophy, Mr. Ashford. And I am certainly not your pawn."
In a flash of motion so swift it left her gasping, Kendrick crossed the distance between them. He didn't touch her, but he closed the space until she was trapped between his towering frame and the high bookshelf behind her. The sheer heat radiating from him made her heart slam against her ribs.
"You think this is a game?" Kendrick lowered his head, his voice a dark, velvety rumble near her ear. "The syndicate demanded I take a wife from their bloodlines to cement an alliance. Barrett brought his fifteen obedient dolls tonight to put a leash around my neck. Instead, my daughter chose a nameless girl in a stained apron."
His hand came up, his knuckles gently grazing the soft curve of her jawline. Willa shivered, unable to pull away from the electric shock of his calloused touch.
"By choosing you, Penny broke their trap," Kendrick murmured, his gray eyes searching hers with a burning intensity. "I protect my daughter with my life. And whoever shields her heart becomes sacred to me. You stay, Willa. Not as my pawn, but as my shield. In exchange, your sister’s tuition is paid, your family’s debts are wiped from existence, and no man in this city will ever touch you again."
"And what do you get out of this?" she whispered, her breath mingling with his.
May you like
"I get to keep my empire," he said softly, his thumb sweeping lightly across her lower lip before he stepped back into the shadows. "And I get to keep you safe."
***
