Chapter 8 - The Shadow of the King
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The next evening, everything at the Meridian Pearl had changed.
When Mara arrived for her shift, Mrs. Crane didn't hand her a laundry list or a bucket of cleaning supplies. The manager looked at Mara with a mixture of profound fear and bitter resentment.
"Mr. Cordell has requested that you no longer wear the standard uniform," Mrs. Crane muttered, handing over a heavy garment bag. "You are to wear this. And you are to report directly to his private office, not the laundry room."
Mara took the bag to the employee locker room. Inside was a sleek, beautifully tailored black pantsuit that fit her curves perfectly, made of expensive, breathable fabric. She traded her oversized, painful shoes for comfortable leather flats. When she looked in the mirror, she didn't look like a maid anymore. She looked like someone who belonged on the top floor.
When she entered the penthouse, Rafe wasn't alone.
He sat behind his massive mahogany desk. Standing opposite him were three large, heavily scarred men in dark suits. They were Rafe’s capos—the lieutenants of his criminal empire.
"The Miami shipment was intercepted, Boss," one of the men grunted. "Vance's crew is getting bold. They think because you’re in the chair, you can't enforce the borders."
Mara froze by the door, realizing she had just walked into a mafia council.
Rafe looked up and saw her. He didn't tell her to leave. He gestured for her to come inside.
"If Vance wants to test my borders, we send a message," Rafe ordered his men, his voice dripping with lethal authority. "Burn the Miami warehouse to the ground. Leave no witnesses. Let Sylvia’s father know that a king in a chair is still a king."
The men nodded grimly and filed out of the room, giving Mara a wide, respectful berth as they passed.
Mara stood by the desk, her heart hammering. She was seeing the monster behind the man. She was seeing the blood on his hands.
"Does it scare you?" Rafe asked quietly, watching her process the violence he had just commanded.
May you like
"Yes," Mara answered honestly, meeting his dark eyes. "But I'm more scared of what happens if you don't fight back."
Rafe smiled, a dangerous, proud smirk. "Come here, Mara. We have work to do on my legs."
