Chapter 8 - Steel and Chiffon at the MarinaTen minutes later, two armed security guards escorted a terrified, weeping Sofia into the grand reception foyer of the mansion.
Her pale blue maid’s smock was stained with floor wax, her hair was untidy, and she clutched her swollen belly with both trembling hands, certain that Mrs. Cruz had finally exposed her and she was about to be thrown out into the hurricane without a penny.
Instead, she found Christian Vance Junior standing by the towering floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the raging, storm-tossed Atlantic.
He turned around slowly. The terrifying, ice-cold menace that had paralyzed the staff moments earlier vanished the instant his eyes locked onto her pale, bruised face. A deep, reverent awe softened his striking features.
“Sofia Morales,” Christian said, his voice dropping into a low, gentle baritone as he stepped across the polished terrazzo floor toward her.
Sofia froze, her lower lip trembling uncontrollably. “I... I’m sorry, Mr. Vance. I only gave him some water and fruit. I didn't mean to break any rules—please don't fire me, I need this job for my baby—”
Christian stopped just two feet away. He gently reached out, taking her rough, calloused, chemical-scarred hands in his warm palms.
“My father told me everything through his eyes, Sofia,” Christian murmured, his gaze holding hers with intense devotion. “You saved his life when my entire empire abandoned him. You gave him dignity when he had nothing left.”
Sofia stared up at him in stunned bewilderment. “You’re... you’re not going to punish me?”
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Christian smiled faintly, pressing his thumbs gently against the back of her trembling hands.
“Punish you?” he whispered. “Sofia, you belong to this family now.”
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