Chapter 10 - The Master of the House
Six months later.
The morning sun broke over Manhattan, painting the glass tower in brilliant gold.
The street outside the Brooklyn Sanctuary for Animals was bustling with activity. Local families were bringing in their pets, volunteers were carrying trays of food into the bright, state-of-the-art facility, and Dr. Thorne was reviewing surgery schedules in the clean, modern lobby.
On the top floor of the building, in a bright, sunlit office filled with plants and books, Willa Thornton sat behind her desk. She was wearing a clean lavender scrub top, her hair tied in a neat braid, reviewing adoption files for rescued K9 dogs. She looked healthy, strong, her skin glowing with life, the faint scars on her wrists now faded into barely visible memories.
The door to her office opened.
Titus walked in. The giant silver mastiff looked magnificent. His coat was thick, sleek, and gleaming like polished slate, his muscles firm, his broad head held high with terrifying dignity. He walked straight to her desk, nudging her knee with his dark nose.
Willa smiled, reaching down to stroke his heavy velvet neck. "Good morning, handsome."
Behind him, stepping through the doorway with smooth, quiet grace, was Jared Kensington.
He was dressed in a tailored navy suit, looking impeccably powerful, but his tie was slightly loosened at the collar. He carried a paper cup of dark roast coffee from the bakery down the street, setting it gently on her desk.
"Morning," Jared said softly.
Willa picked up the coffee, taking a slow sip, looking up at him with warm, quiet affection. "You're late. The shipping manifest for the new ultrasound machine arrived twenty minutes ago."
"Miles handled it," Jared replied, walking around her desk to stand behind her chair. He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders, his long fingers warm through her scrub top. "How are the morning consultations?"
"Three adoptions approved," she said, leaning her head back against his chest. "And a retired shepherd from the police force is coming in at two."
Jared leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, his scent—dark sandalwood and warm rain—filling her senses.
Six months ago, the city had known Jared Kensington as a shadow—a terrifying, unyielding mob boss who ruled through fear and absolute control. Today, the city still feared him, but those who looked closely noticed a shift. The cold glass fortress fifty-eight floors above the Hudson was no longer an empty gallery of steel and concrete. It had warm rugs, fresh flowers, the sound of laughter, and a giant silver dog sleeping by the fireplace every night.
He hadn't stopped ruling his empire. But his empire had found its heart.
"Are we still on for dinner tonight?" Jared asked softly, his fingers gently stroking her neck.
"Only if we take the long way home," Willa replied, looking up into his icy grey eyes—eyes that now held an absolute, fierce devotion reserved solely for her. "Titus wants to walk in the park."
Jared looked down at the one-hundred-and-fifty-pound killer mastiff, who let out a low, happy huff of air and rested his heavy chin on Jared’s shoe, completely ruining the polish on his leather oxford.
May you like
Jared chuckled—a deep, low sound that echoed warmly through the sunlit office.
"Whatever the master of the house wants," Jared murmured, looking at Willa with a quiet, unconditional love that no amount of money could ever buy. "We walk in the park."
