Chapter 2 - Cold Eyes and Warm Hearts
Julian Vance did not look like a monster in the soft light of the desk lamp. The legendary boss of the city’s underground empire sat back in his leather chair, his dark gray suit crisp, his icy blue eyes fixed entirely on me. Ellie was curled against his tailored jacket, her tiny fist clutching his thumb while she breathed softly in deep sleep.
"You're five minutes late for her feeding," Julian said, his voice a low, gravelly baritone that sent a shiver straight down my spine.
"Please," I gasped, my voice cracking as tears spilled over my eyelashes. "Please don't call the police. Don't take her from me. I'll leave right now, I swear. I'll never come back."
Julian slowly shifted, supporting Ellie’s neck with astonishing gentleness for a man whose hands carried a deadly reputation. He stood up, towering over six feet tall, and walked toward me. I backed into the doorframe, my heart pounding violently against my ribs.
"I found her forty minutes ago," Julian said softly, stopping just inches away. "Your manager was about to throw a stack of heavy linen tablecloths into that closet. He didn't see her. She would have suffocated, Maya."
Hearing my name on his lips sent a shockwave through me. "You... you know who I am?"
"I know every person who walks through my doors," he replied, looking down at Ellie before meeting my eyes. "I know your husband died six months ago in a suspicious hit-and-run. I know you're working three shifts a week here and two at a diner down the street, and I know your bank account has forty-two dollars in it."
The raw truth stripped away whatever pride I had left. I sank against the wall, covering my face as sob after sob wracked my body. "I had no choice. The sitter cancelled, daycare is too expensive, and if I lost this job, we'd be on the street by Friday."
Julian stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, gently, he transferred Ellie into my trembling arms. The moment my daughter was back against my chest, the overwhelming weight of relief nearly made my knees give out.
"You're wrong about one thing," Julian said coldly, walking over to his desk and picking up a thick manila folder. "You do have a choice. You can let your manager fire you tonight and hand you over to child protective services..."
He paused, opening the folder to reveal a signed cashier's check made out for fifty thousand dollars.
"...or you can pack your bags, move into my estate tonight, and work directly for me as my personal house manager."
May you like
I stared at the check, then at the man everyone feared. "Why would you do this for a nobody like me?"
Julian’s eyes darkened, a shadow of pain passing over his striking features before vanishing behind a wall of ice. "Because your husband didn't die in an accident, Maya. And the people who killed him are coming for you next."
