The bedroom was enormous, almost absurdly so, but it didn’t feel cold.The bed was low and wide, layered in soft linen instead of stiff hotel white.A sitting area overlooked the grounds, and beyond that—
The bathroom.
Eliza stopped short.
Stone floors warmed beneath her bare feet.A deep soaking tub sat beneath a window frosted for privacy, steam already ghosting the glass from the ambient heat.The shower was large enough that she could stand in it without feeling closed in, water falling from multiple angles instead of one punishing stream.
Her throat tightened.
Nikolai said nothing.He simply waited until she nodded, then closed the door softly behind them.
Downstairs, the formal dining room had been transformed.
The long table was gone, replaced by modular desks arranged in a loose horseshoe.Screens lined one wall, cables feeding into racks that hummed softly with power.Mateo was there when they arrived, sleeves rolled up, hair disheveled, directing two men unloading equipment from the back of a truck like a conductor leading an orchestra only he could hear.
“This will do,” he said when he spotted her, offering a quick smile.“We’ll have it locked down by nightfall.”
The house felt alive after that.
Footsteps echoed.Voices murmured.Systems came online one by one.Men moved through rooms testing locks, sightlines, angles.Safety wasn’t assumed here—it was built, piece by piece.
Eliza drifted toward the kitchen, drawn by the quiet clink of porcelain.
Mara stood at the counter, kettle steaming, her dark hair pulled back loosely.She looked up and smiled, easy and warm.
“Tea?”she asked.
Eliza nodded.“Please.”
They sat at the island, mug warming Eliza’s hands.For a few minutes, they drank in silence, the kind that didn’t demand filling.
“How are you, really?”Mara asked eventually.
The question wasn’t gentle.It wasn’t sharp either.It was honest.
Eliza considered it.
“I’m ...better,” she said finally.“Not fixed.But I feel safer.More so than I’ve ever been.”
Mara nodded, as if that made perfect sense.“Nikolai helps you with that,” she said.
“He does,” Eliza agreed quietly.“In ways I don’t know how to thank him for.He doesn’t push.He notices things.What I need.What I don’t.”She paused, fingers tightening around the mug.“He makes space for me.”
Mara’s gaze softened.“That matters.”She leaned back against the counter.“I didn’t always know that.In the beginning, I thought strength meant surviving on my own.”
Eliza looked at her.“What changed?”
Mara smiled faintly.“I was targeted by someone who thought he owned me,” she said.“Someone who trafficked women like commodities.When I crossed him, he decided to make an example of me.”
Eliza’s breath caught.
“I nearly lost Luca,” Mara continued.“And when I realized that possibility—that the world might take him from me—I understood something very clearly.”
“What?”Eliza asked.
“That loving him was already the most dangerous thing I’d ever done,” Mara said.“But it was also the best.”
Eliza absorbed that in silence.