Chapter 6 - Dawn at Blackwood EstateThe sun rose over the Blackwood Estate, casting a golden, ethereal glow across the manicured lawns that had looked so bleak just twenty-four hours earlier.
Inside the massive, vaulted master kitchen, the atmosphere was entirely foreign. The smell of fresh pancakes, brewed coffee, and vanilla filled the air.
Emma sat at the sprawling marble island, swinging her legs back and forth, wearing a brand-new pastel blue dress that had mysteriously appeared in her guest suite. Across from her, Clara Carter—color finally returning to her cheeks thanks to Dr. Vale’s antidote—sat with a mug of hot tea, looking around the palatial room in utter disbelief.
The double doors swung open, and Lucas walked in. He had discarded his blood-stained suit jacket, wearing only a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing the dark, intricate tattoos wrapping around his muscular arms.
Emma’s face lit up. "Mister Blackwood!"
Lucas paused, a microscopic shift occurring in his stern expression. "Good morning, Emma. How are you feeling?"
"I’m great! And my tummy feels funny because I had two plates of pancakes, and Dr. Vale said Mommy is going to live!" She hopped off the stool and ran straight toward him, throwing her small arms around his waist.
For a second, Lucas froze like a statue. For years, the only things that touched him were bullets, blades, and the crisp fabric of bespoke suits. He looked down at the crown of honey-brown hair pressed against his chest. Slowly, awkwardly, like a man defusing a live grenade, Lucas raised his heavy hand and rested it gently on her head.
Clara stood up quickly, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. "Mr. Blackwood... I don't know how to thank you. Harold told me what happened last night. Marcus Vance is... gone. And our apartment debt is paid, and..."
"You aren't working as a cleaner anymore, Clara," Lucas said, his voice firm yet gentle as he untangled himself from Emma and walked over to the island.
Clara’s heart dropped. "Sir? Are you throwing us out?"
"No," Lucas said, pulling a leather-bound folder from beneath his arm and sliding it across the marble. "I need someone to manage the estate’s domestic operations. Oversee the staff, manage the accounts, ensure this house actually feels like a home instead of a fortress. The salary is ten times what you were making. And your health insurance covers everything."
Clara opened the folder, her eyes scanning the official employment contract. At the bottom, under Base Salary, was a figure that made her breath catch.
May you like
"I... I can't accept this. It's too much," Clara whispered, looking up at him with awe and fear.
"You can, and you will," Lucas replied, pouring himself a cup of black coffee. "Because starting today, you and Emma are under the Blackwood protection. Nobody touches my people."
