Leo’s dark eyes shifted from his daughter’s pale, tear-streaked face to Beatrice. He saw the brutal gash on her cheek, the purple bruising already blooming across her knuckles, and the way her chest still heaved with adrenaline. He saw what everyone else in the mansion had overlooked: a warrior in a stained white apron.

Chapter 7: Shifting Dynamics

Over the next week at the safehouse, the lines between employer and employee blurred into nothingness. Beatrice cooked for them, but Leo set the table. Mateo taught Lily how to play poker using dried beans, and the cabin was filled with something the Rossi family hadn't experienced in years: laughter.

Beatrice caught Leo looking at her differently. It wasn't the look of a boss, nor was it the pitying glance she was used to from men in society. He looked at her like she was the center of his gravity.

One evening, while washing dishes, she felt him step up right behind her. He didn't touch her, but his proximity was a physical weight.

"You don't hide here," Leo observed, his breath grazing her ear. "Back at the house, you always made yourself small. Here, you take up space. I like it."