Chapter 4 - The Guardian of the Girl
Moving from the cramped basement maid quarters into the luxurious main wing of the Romano estate felt like stepping into another world.
Our new room was larger than my entire childhood home, featuring plush velvet armchairs, a massive fireplace, and high arched windows overlooking the private pine forest behind the gates. But the most unexpected change was not the velvet curtains or the fine porcelain tea sets.
It was the 130-pound shadow that followed Ellie everywhere she went.
From the moment Damen moved us upstairs, Atlas abandoned his post outside Damen's office door. He slept at the foot of Ellie's bed every night. When she walked down the long carpeted corridors, the giant gray hound walked beside her, his broad head resting right at her elbow level, letting her hold onto his collar whenever she felt tired.
"He thinks she's his puppy now," Anthony chuckled three days later as he met me near the grand staircase.
I watched Ellie sitting on the sheepskin rug near the fireplace, placing a plastic princess crown on Atlas's broad head. The terrifying dog that had once put three rival enforcers in the hospital sat completely still, enduring the royal crowning with stoic patience.
"It makes me nervous, Anthony," I admitted quietly, leaning against the wooden railing. "Damen Romano is a powerful man with dangerous enemies. Being close to him... putting my daughter in the middle of his world... it terrifies me."
"Mara," Anthony said, his tone growing serious. "You were already in the middle of it the day you walked into this house. But look around. Damen hasn't let a single outsider past the gates since the poisoning. And he hasn't asked you to clean a single floor since Tuesday."
Just then, the double doors of the master study opened.
Damen Romano stepped out. He was dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his dark hair combed back smoothly, though his face still carried a pale hint of the poison's aftermath. Behind him walked Nicholas, carrying a thick leather briefcase, arguing in low, hushed tones.
"We have to sign the contract with the Vane syndicate by Friday, Damen," Nicholas insisted, his voice sharp with frustration. "If we stall any longer, Lucian Vane will think we're weak after what happened to you!"
"Lucian Vane can wait," Damen replied calmly, stopping at the top of the stairs. His eyes immediately drifted toward Ellie, who was currently trying to teach Atlas how to shake hands. A faint, barely visible stroke of warmth softened Damen’s cold jawline.
Nicholas noticed the look and let out an irritated sigh. "Are you seriously letting a maid and her brat distract you from a fifty-million-dollar shipping deal?"
Atlas's ears immediately snapped back. A low, warning vibration shook the dog’s ribs as he glared at Nicholas.
Damen turned his head slowly toward his younger brother, his eyes turning into two slivers of black ice. "Watch your tongue, Nicholas. That 'brat' did what eight of your armed men couldn't do. And her mother is under my personal protection."
Nicholas opened his mouth to snap back, but caught the look in Damen's eyes and forced himself to submit, bowing his head slightly before turning on his heel and walking down the stairs.
Damen walked over to where I was standing. The subtle scent of expensive sandalwood and crisp rain clung to his coat.
"How is she settling in?" Damen asked, his voice low and smooth.
"She's very happy, Mr. Romano," I answered, lowering my eyes out of habit. "Thank you for the quarters. But really, you don't have to keep us here. I can return to my duties—"
"Mara," Damen interrupted gently, stepping half an inch closer. "Look at me."
May you like
I raised my eyes to meet his.
"You saved my life by letting her step into that room," Damen said, his voice dropping into an intimate register that made my pulse jump. "And your daughter brought life back into a house that was dead long before I fell onto that floor. You aren't cleaning anything in this house ever again."
