Damon did not leave Lily on the lawn for another second.
He slipped his arms beneath her frail frame, lifting her effortlessly against his chest.
The gold-rimmed plate of cake remained in Lily's small hands, her fingers locked around the silver fork.
The high-society guests parted like waves as Damon strode past the silk pavilion.
No one dared utter a single word.
The cold, lethal aura radiating from the billionaire silenced every whispered rumor in the garden.
Arthur Vance followed two paces behind, his leather clipboard tucked tightly under his arm.
"Arthur," Damon commanded without breaking stride.
"Close the estate gates. Dismiss the orchestra. The gala is over."
"Right away, Mr. Sterling," Arthur replied, immediately speaking into his two-way radio.
Damon carried the little girl through the French doors into the quiet sanctuary of the grand manor.
The heavy mahogany doors clicked shut, sealing out the hum of the crowd and the spring breeze.
Lily looked up at the towering marble foyer with wide, saucer-like eyes.
"Is this a castle?" she whispered, her voice trembling in reverent awe.
"It’s a home, Lily," Damon answered softly, his voice softening into warmth. "And tonight, it’s yours."
He carried her into his private ground-floor library, where a soft fire crackled in the stone hearth.
He set her gently onto the oversized velvet armchair, crouching before her so they remained eye to eye.
"Arthur," Damon said, looking toward the open study doorway.
"Call Dr. Marcus Evans. Tell him to bring the mobile genetic sequencing unit and report to the study immediately."
Lily looked down at her dirty bare feet, curling her toes inward against the velvet upholstery.
"Am I in trouble?" she murmured, clutching the platinum heart around her neck.
Damon reached out, gently wrapping his warm fingers around her cold hands.
"Never, Lily," Damon promised, his heart aching with a fierce, protective ache. "You will never be in trouble in this house again."
