Evangeline

Chapter 16. Kill Me Instead

The echo of Master Kane hauling Dominic and Malachi out of the room was still fresh in Mia's mind as she finished wiping down the final mirror in the silk-lined suite. Her chest was tight, her heart still hammering against her ribs from the terrifying intervention. But she had no time to process the adrenaline. Kane's rough voice echoed in her head: "I will tell August that you will be behind schedule because of these two idiots, continue cleaning."

​She didn't take a moment to rest. Gathering her microfiber cloths and polishing sprays, Mia lifted her heavy plastic cleaning caddy, her small hands gripping the handle with an unyielding intensity. She had to finish her rounds. She had to maintain whatever semblance of routine she had left, even if the mansion felt like a powder keg ready to ignite.

​With a soft, shuddering breath, she wheeled her caddy out into the corridor and turned toward the final, grand stretch of the executive wing: Master August's private quarters.

​Because Kane had promised to alert the eldest brother, Mia knew she couldn't hide behind a perfect timeline today. She stopped before the massive double mahogany doors, her ink-black hair casting a shadow over her pale, porcelain face. She raised her small hand and knocked softly, a polite, respectful cadence that barely disturbed the quiet of the hall.

​"Enter."

​The deep, resonant voice cut through the thick wood like a sheet of ice.

​Mia swiped her keycard, the lock clicking open with a muted chirp. She pushed the heavy doors open, immediately dropping her vibrant blue eyes to the polished dark marble as she stepped into the vast, majestic space. She kept her head deeply bowed, her hands folded neatly over the front of her gray uniform.

​"Master August," Mia murmured, her sweet voice a delicate, trembling whisper. "I am here to perform the daily cleaning of your quarters. I am... I am incredibly sorry for my lateness, sir. Master Kane informed me he would speak with you."

​August sat behind his massive desk, looking completely immaculate in his tailored dark three-piece suit. He was reviewing a series of maps on his monitors, a sleek silver fountain pen resting between his long, elegant fingers. He did not look up when she entered, but the oppressive, suffocating weight of his presence filled the room instantly.

​"Kane apprised me of the situation," August commanded smoothly, his tone entirely unreadable. "My brothers acted like animals, disrupting the structural efficiency of this household. It is not your error. Proceed with your duties."

​"Thank you, sir," Mia whispered.

​She moved silently toward the grand walk-in wardrobe to begin her routine. She lifted a heavy stack of freshly laundered, pressed white shirts from her caddy, carrying them into the cedar-lined space. With practiced, meticulous precision, she began hanging them up, ensuring every hanger was spaced exactly one inch apart, perfectly matching the clinical structure August demanded.

​Once the clothes were away, she stepped back into the main bedroom area. She pulled a soft microfiber cloth and a polishing spray from her caddy, kneeling to wipe down the dark wood surfaces of his nightstands, before standing to meticulously clean the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the misty estate. She worked like a shadow, trying to minimize her own existence so as not to disrupt the leader's focus.

​For nearly twenty minutes, the only sound in the vast room was the soft rustle of her cloth against the glass and the rhythmic scratch of August's pen.

​Suddenly, the mechanical scratching stopped entirely.

​Mia kept her back to him, her arm moving in a steady, rhythmic circle against the windowpane. She assumed he was simply reviewing another folder, until his voice broke the quiet, carrying a strange, dangerous edge that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

​"Funny thing happened while I was reviewing the server logs this morning, Mia," August said smoothly. His voice wasn't loud, but it possessed a terrifying, absolute clarity that seemed to drop the temperature in the room to absolute ice.

​Mia's hand paused on the glass, her fingers tightening against the microfiber cloth. She kept her back turned, her head bowed. "Master August?"

​"A massive security alert hit the mansion's outer firewall about three hours ago," August continued. He leaned back in his high leather chair, crossing one tailored leg over the other, his ice-blue eyes locking onto her rigid silhouette. "It originated from an encrypted network. Someone is actively trying to track down a 'missing girl' matching your exact physical description. Height, weight, age, eye color... an identical match. The ping originated from a city entirely across the country."

​The words struck Mia like a physical blow. The world seemed to stop spinning, the breath completely trapped in her lungs. Her face turned a horrific, translucent white, and her small hands began to shake so violently that the microfiber cloth slipped from her fingers, fluttering uselessly down to the marble floor.

​She froze. Every single survival instinct she possessed screamed at her to flee, to hide, to vanish into the shadows. The dark, horrific past she had worked so hard to bury- the nightmare she had run from across state lines, had finally caught up to her. The monsters she had escaped were knocking on the door of the monsters who had kidnapped her.

​"I intercepted the transmission before any of my brothers or guards could see it," August continued, his tone conversational, yet dripping with a terrifyingly absolute authority. He picked up his silver fountain pen, tapping it rhythmically against his palm. "Figured I'd let you know that someone is looking for you."

​"I-" Mia stuttered, her throat completely dry, her vocal cords betraying her. She tried to swallow the thick lump of terror rising in her chest, but she couldn't form a coherent sentence. Her mind was a chaotic storm of panic. "I..."

​"I deleted it," August said flatly.

​The words echoed through the silent room like a thunderclap.

​Mia gasped, her defensive compliance entirely shattering under the sheer weight of her shock. Forgetting every single rule of her training, forgetting her inherent humility, she turned around rapidly to look at August without bowing her head. Her bright blue eyes were wide, dilated with terror and utter bewilderment, questioning the terrifying man sitting behind the desk.

​"You... you deleted it?" she whispered, her voice cracking with an intense emotional vulnerability.

​August didn't flinch at her direct gaze. Instead, he stared back at her, his striking ice-blue eyes narrowing into a cold, clinical focus. His massive, untouchable pride radiated off him like a physical force. He stood up from his leather chair, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he walked slowly around the edge of his desk, his long steps deliberate and predatory.

​"I'm not asking to know more about your past, Mia," August started again, stopping just a few feet away from her. He towered over her petite frame, looking down at her porcelain face with a look of supreme, absolute possession. "Besides, I know where you ran from now. I know the jurisdiction of that network. I don't need you to tell me your story. I think I'll figure you out myself."

​Mia stepped back until her spine pressed flat against the cold glass of the window, her hands clutching the fabric of her gray skirt. "Master August, please..."

​"You don't seem to understand the rules of this house, Mia," August interrupted, his voice dropping to a low, lethal purr that brooked absolute zero argument. His immense pride manifested in his posture, a fierce, absolute refusal hardening his perfect facial features. "You are under my roof. You are currently logged in my books. In this city, and within the borders of this estate, my authority is absolute. I do not care who is looking for you across the country. I do not care what powerful men think they have a claim to your life."

He stepped closer, his sandalwood cologne enveloping her senses, trapping her completely. He leaned down slightly, his gaze boring into her wide eyes. "I do not allow outsiders to rummage through my property. I do not allow anyone to take what belongs under my roof. Your mystery does not belong to a database, and it does not belong to whoever is chasing you. It belongs solely to me."

​Mia felt a wave of profound gratitude wash through her chest, a sudden, overwhelming relief that he had shielded her from the transmission. But at the exact same time, a paralyzing, primal fear gripped her soul. She was safe from her past, but she was now entirely under the absolute, possessive control of a cartel king who viewed her as a prize to be deciphered.

​The image of the horrific place she had fled flashed vividly behind her eyelids- hands taking what they wanted, her screams of 'no' being completely ignored. The thought of being sent back to that living hell fractured the last remnants of her composure.

​Driven by a desperate, shattering panic, Mia dropped to her knees on the cold floorboards right before his polished leather shoes. She did not grovel for her life out of a desire to serve; she pleaded for her very soul. She lifted her face, her porcelain skin tracked with hot, rapid tears, her small hands reaching out to hover just inches above his tailored pants, not daring to touch him without permission.

​"Don't send me back there, please," Mia pleaded, her sweet voice breaking, trembling with a raw, agonizing terror that filled the entire room. "Master August, I beg of you. I know I am only a maid. I know I am captive here, and I know I don't have any authority to ask of you for anything. I am nothing to this family."

​August froze, his ice-blue eyes widening a fraction as he looked down at her shattered, weeping form.

​"But if you are thinking of sending me back there..." Mia choked out, her bright blue eyes staring into his with a terrifying, unshakeable finality that completely defied her fragile appearance. "If there ever comes a day where you decide I am too much of a risk to keep... kill me instead. Pull your weapon and end my life right here on this floor. I would rather be buried in the dirt beneath this mansion than ever be sent back to that place. Please, Master August. Kill me instead."

​The silence that followed her words was heavy, suffocating, and absolute.

​August stared down at her, his breath catching sharply in his chest. His perfect jaw tightened, a sudden, jarring shock neutralizing the cold, clinical pride in his mind. He had spent his entire life surrounded by hardened criminals, ruthless soldiers, and desperate men begging for mercy. He knew what fear looked like. But he had never heard someone beg for death with such profound, dignified certainty.

​Her words did not speak of weakness; they spoke of a horrific, unyielding trauma that she had survived with her grace intact. And the thought of anyone- any outsider across the country, inflicting enough pain on this pure, radiant girl to make her prefer a bullet to her past made a dark, vicious rage simmer deep within his chest.

​His view of her shifted entirely in that agonizing second. She wasn't just a clever puzzle to solve anymore. She wasn't an asset on a balance sheet. She was a living, breathing soul of immense value, and his pride transformed from a desire to control her into a fierce, absolute need to destroy anyone who dared to threaten her.

​Slowly, deliberately, August reached down. His long, elegant fingers wrapped gently but securely around her small elbows, and with an unyielding, effortless strength, he lifted her up from the floor, forcing her to stand before him. He did not let go of her arms, his grip steadying her trembling frame.

​"Stand up, Mia," August commanded softly, the icy edge completely vanishing from his voice, replaced by a deep, resonant gravity. He waited until her tear-filled blue eyes met his before he spoke again. "Look at me."

​Mia swallowed a sob, her chest heaving as she looked into his striking face.

​"I am August Crowe," he said, his voice dripping with an untouchable pride that felt like an iron shield surrounding her. "No one dictates terms to me, and no one takes what is mine. You will not be sent back to that city. You will not be handed over to anyone, and you will certainly not be killed on my floor. You are a member of this household's staff, and under my roof, you are entirely untouchable to the rest of the world."

​He reached down, his thumb gently brushing a single hot tear from her pale, porcelain cheek, his touch surprisingly soft. "Your past died the moment you crossed my path. Your mystery belongs to me now, and I protect what is mine. Do you understand me?"

​Mia stared at him, her heart pounding a frantic, yet suddenly peaceful rhythm against her ribs. The suffocating terror of her past seemed to recede, blocked entirely by the massive, protective wall of the man standing before her. She nodded slowly, her voice a delicate whisper.

​"Yes, Master August. I understand."

​"Good," August murmured, slowly releasing her arms and stepping back toward his desk. He smoothed down the front of his tailored vest, his clinical composure returning instantly. "Pick up your cloth. Finish washing my windows. You are behind schedule, and I do not tolerate inefficiency."

​"Yes, sir," Mia whispered, a soft, incredibly genuine wave of gratitude warming her chest.

​She knelt down, picking up her microfiber cloth from the floorboards, her small hands fleetingly brushing the dust away as she found her footing. As she turned back to the glass, her cloth moving in steady, rhythmic circles against the gray mist outside, she realized the terrifying truth. The king of Pride had not broken her mystery- instead, he had built a wall of steel around it, ensuring that the monsters of her past would have to tear through him first.