Marina’s face flushed deeper red, her fingers clenching into fists at her sides, but she tried to defend herself, her voice trembling but firm. "Mom... I am sorry..." she began, her eyes flickering up to meet Madeline’s gaze for the first time, a spark of defiance in her voice. "Only after getting Kevin’s permission..."

Madeline laughed—a sharp, bitter sound that echoed through the hallway like a slap. "Shut up..." she hissed, her voice low, dangerous, her finger pointing at Marina like a gun.

"Don’t you know the rules?" Her eyes burned with fury, her posture rigid with authority.

"Male bodyguards are not allowed... anywhere near you..." She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper, venomous and cold. "...still..." The implication hung in the air, heavy with judgment and contempt.

Marina’s breath hitched, her body trembling as if struck by a physical blow. She knew she’d fucked up. Badly. And Madeline was not the kind of woman to forgive—or forget.

Madeline stepped closer, her heels clicking against the marble floor, each sound like a gunshot in the silence. Her voice was a hiss, her breath hot against Marina’s face.

"You disobeyed me..." she spat, her eyes narrowing with rage. "You disrespected me..." She paused, her lips curling into a sneer.

"And worse—you disrespected Kevin..." Her voice was venomous, calculating, each word like a knife twisted into Marina’s pride.

Marina’s shoulders slumped, her defiance crumbling under the weight of Madeline’s wrath. The air in the hallway was thick with tension, humiliation, and the unspoken power struggle between the two women.

She lowered her gaze, her voice barely audible, the words tasting like defeat on her lips. "I’m sorry, Mother..." she whispered, her fingers clenching the fabric of her robe, her knuckles white with the effort of restraining herself.

Madeline didn’t spare Marina another glance. Instead, she turned to me, her voice sharp, commanding, as if dismissing Marina entirely.

"Follow me..." she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. She paused, her eyes flickering over me, assessing, claiming. "Your name... what was it... Dexter... isn’t it?" Her lips curled into a smirk, as if testing me, daring me to correct her. "Come with me..."

I nodded, my voice respectful, steady. "Yes, Ma’am..." I said, my eyes flickering to Marina for a brief moment. The disappointment on her face was palpable—raw, unfiltered.

She knew she’d lost this round, and the realization burned in her eyes. But I didn’t linger. Madeline had spoken, and I knew better than to keep her waiting.

With that, Madeline turned on her heel, her hips swaying deliberately as she walked toward the guest room, the maid trailing behind her with her luggage.

The sight of her ass—round, firm, swaying with every step—was impossible to ignore. She knew I was watching, and she wanted me to. It was a test, a tease, a reminder of who was in control now.

I followed behind, my mind racing. The dynamic had shifted—dramatically. Marina was no longer the only queen in this house. Madeline had staked her claim, and I was now hers to command.

When we reached the guest room, Madeline stopped at the doorway, her voice cool, authoritative. "Put my luggage in there and go..." she ordered the maid, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The maid nodded quickly, rushing to obey, her movements efficient and silent. Once the luggage was inside, Madeline turned to me, her eyes locking onto mine, her voice dropping to a command. "And you... come in..."

The maid hurried out, closing the door behind her, leaving us alone. The room was spacious, luxurious, and fitted with elegant furniture and plush decor.

But the real focus was Madeline—sitting on the edge of the bed, her posture regal, her legs crossed, her hands resting on her knees. She looked up at me, her eyes dark with amusement and something darker—lust, power, control.

I stood before her, my posture straight, my hands clasped behind my back, waiting. The tension in the room was palpable, electric, the air thick with unspoken promises and daring challenges.

Madeline smiled, her lips curling into a wicked smirk, her voice low, teasing, as if she were savoring the moment, the power she held over me.

Then, her expression shifted, her voice turning arrogant, commanding. "I don’t know why my son hired you..." she said, her tone dripping with disdain, as if the very idea of Kevin’s judgment was questionable.

"But from now on... You will listen to my orders only..." She paused, her eyes locking onto mine, her voice dropping to a hiss.

"Listen carefully—only my orders. Not Kevin’s. Not Marina’s." Her fingers tapped against her thigh, her touch impatient, demanding.

"You will work for me..." She leaned forward slightly, her voice softening, mocking. "And don’t worry... I won’t make things difficult for you..."

With that, she pulled a bank card from her purse, the gold and black design gleaming under the light. She held it between her fingers, dangling it like a carrot before me. "Keep this..." she said, her voice smooth, tempting.

"It has one million in it. Password is six zeros..." She placed the card on the table between us, her eyes never leaving mine, daring me to take it.

I didn’t move. I didn’t reach for it. Instead, I kept my posture straight, my voice firm, respectful. "I am sorry, Ma’am..." I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.

"I can’t accept it..." My eyes flickered to the card, then back to her, unyielding.

"I am just doing my job—whether it is to protect the first lady or Madam..." I paused, my voice steady, unshaken. "I work for Sir Kevin... and this is what I should do..."

Madeline stared at me, her expression unreadable for a moment. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, as if she were weighing my words, my loyalty, my defiance. Then, her lips curled into a smile—slow, genuine, impressed.

"Good..." she murmured, her voice soft, almost approving.

"I never expected Kevin to find someone like you..." She leaned back, her eyes gleaming with amusement and respect.

"It is good that you have this mentality..." Her fingers tapped the table, pushing the card closer to me, but she didn’t insist. "Loyalty is rare these days..." she added, her voice thoughtful, almost admiring.