Chapter 6 - The Devil's Protection: Stepping Into the Obsidian Fortress of Julian Vance
The penthouse atop the Obsidian Tower felt like a different universe.
Located on the eighty-fourth floor overlooking the glittering skyline of Manhattan, it was a palace of black marble, floor-to-ceiling glass, polished bronze, and priceless modern art. It was vast, silent, and intimidating.
Matteo gasped in awe, running his little hands over the smooth leather of an Italian sofa that cost more than Leah's five-year salary combined.
"It's like a castle, Auntie!" he cheered, pressing his nose against the giant glass window to watch helicopters fly below them.
A team of women in neat gray uniforms appeared instantly, bowing their heads.
"Take the young master to the east wing," Julian instructed them smoothly. "Prepare the cinema room and have Chef Roberto make whatever he requests. Then contact Dr. Harrison at Columbia Presbyterian. Tell him he has an emergency patient arriving for a complete cardiovascular evaluation within the hour."
"Yes, Mr. Vance," the head housekeeper replied, smiling warmly as she took Matteo's hand.
"Auntie Leah?" Matteo looked back hesitantly.
"Go on, honey. Have some pancakes. I'll be right there," Leah smiled softly, waiting until the heavy double doors clicked shut before turning to face the lion in his den.
Julian had discarded his ruined suit jacket and was pouring two glasses of amber scotch at the private bar. He slid one toward her across the granite counter.
"I don't drink while I'm terrified," Leah said flatly, keeping her hands at her sides.
Julian chuckled—a deep, resonant sound that sent a strange flutter through her stomach. "You don't look terrified to me. You look furious."
"I've been kidnapped by an underworld kingpin!"
"You've been protected," he corrected, taking a slow sip. "There is a difference. Sable—my former underboss—believes he has successfully staged a coup. He will be moving his assets today, expecting my empire to collapse into his lap."
"So kill him, arrest him, do whatever you people do, and let us go home!"
Julian walked around the bar, his presence overwhelming her as he closed the distance between them. He stopped mere inches away. Leah could smell the rich scents of cedarwood, expensive tobacco, and rain lingering on his skin.
He looked down at her face—her full, expressive lips, the fiery determination in her amber eyes, and the curves that were hidden beneath that awful, baggy polyester uniform.
"You risked your life for a stranger in the dark," Julian said softly, his voice dropping into that intimate octave. "In my world, loyalty like that is rarer than diamonds. You aren't going anywhere, Leah. Not until Matteo has a clean bill of health, and not until I am certain you are completely safe."
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"And if I refuse your charity?" she challenged, her chin held high.
Julian leaned down slightly, his sea-green eyes flashing with fierce amusement. "You can try, little waitress. But you'll find I am very difficult to say no to."
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