Chapter 2 - The Quiet Sanctuary
Dr. Helena Ward arrived within twenty minutes through the private basement elevator. Christian had summoned her personally, bypassing the household registry. Helena was fifty-five, sharp-eyed, and had patched up Christian’s father back during the ruthless dock wars of the nineties.
In the sunlit guest suite on the third floor—far away from the cold marble where Clara had scrubbed—Helena applied antiseptic balm with deft, gentle strokes. Clara winced, biting down on a roll of linen to keep from crying out.
Christian stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking down at the sweeping lawn of his Westchester estate. The trees were turning copper and gold under an overcast autumn sky.
"Three fractured ribs, severe soft-tissue contusions, and multiple lacerations inflicted by a belt buckle with sharp edges," Helena announced, snapping off her latex gloves with a sharp snap. "This isn't a domestic dispute, Christian. This is systematic, prolonged torture. If that hit between the third and fourth vertebrae had been an inch deeper, she’d be in a wheelchair."
Christian’s jaw shifted, a muscle twitching beneath his bronze stubble. "Is she safe to sleep?"
"Medically? Yes. Psychologically? She jumps every time a leaf hits the glass," Helena murmured. She walked up to Christian, looking up into his dark, brooding eyes. "She needs sanctuary, Christian, not an inquisition. Don't turn this into a war before you heal the soldier."
Christian nodded once. When Helena left, he pulled a velvet armchair toward Clara’s bedside. She was awake, her face pale against the Egyptian cotton pillow.
"Marcus is your husband?" Christian asked softly, keeping his voice carefully measured.
"My stepbrother," Clara whispered, her voice rough. "When my parents died three years ago, he took the mortgage, the debts, and custody of Leo. Leo is nine. Marcus keeps Leo in his apartment. He tells me if I don't give him my entire paycheck every Friday, he’ll make Leo pay the difference."
Christian leaned back, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. "Leo is safe right now?"
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"He's at school until three. But Marcus picks him up. If I’m not home by five with your cash..."
Christian glanced at his platinum watch. It was 1:15 PM. "Rest, Clara. Nobody is taking Leo anywhere today except home."
