Maid To The Three Mafia Kings

⋆ Chapter 53: Boulogne-Billancourt

Ethan's private jet touched down smoothly at Le Bourget Airport in Paris, the hum of the engines winding down as the plane taxied to a halt. The small, private terminal was a far cry from the bustling main airport, a place reserved for the elite, where privacy and security were paramount.

As soon as the jet's door opened, Ethan was greeted by a man in a crisp executive uniform, his posture rigid and professional. Behind him, four imposing men, heavily armed and dressed in black, flanked him like shadows, their eyes scanning the surroundings with practiced vigilance.

Ethan wasted no time, descending the steps with the grace of someone accustomed to this lifestyle. He quickly slid into the backseat of a sleek black Mercedes-Benz. Beside him, the middle-aged man sat silently. His black hair was slicked back, revealing a neck adorned with colorful tattoos that peeked out from beneath the collar of his expensive, tailored suit. The man's hands, also covered in intricate ink, rested calmly in his lap.

Ethan glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "How's the old man, Falcone?"

Falcone ran a hand over his face, the ink on his skin shifting with the movement. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "He found a new hobby."

"New hobby?"

"You'll soon see. And he's growing impatient."

Ethan let out a low chuckle, nodding slightly. "Patience has never been his strong suit," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his tone, though his eyes remained sharp.

Falcone's smile widened, revealing a glint of teeth as the convoy of cars began to move, the Mercedes-Benz flanked by two more identical vehicles. The procession drove off the private runway and out onto the open road, the Parisian landscape stretching out before them.

After forty minutes of winding through the city streets, the convoy entered Boulogne-Billancourt, a suburb known for its wealth and exclusivity. But they didn't stop in the heart of the suburb; instead, they continued further, to a secluded area where a sprawling mansion loomed, far removed from the other luxurious homes. The mansion was an imposing structure, its gates tall and foreboding, guarded by men who were just as heavily armed as those who had greeted Ethan at the airport. The entire estate was a fortress, with security patrolling both the grounds and the interiors, ensuring that no one entered—or left—without permission.

As the car came to a smooth stop in front of the imposing mansion, Ethan took a deep breath. Stepping out of the car, the mansion loomed above him, its entrance hall even more impressive up close. As he walked inside, the space opened up to reveal a grand staircase sweeping upward beneath a massive chandelier that sparkled like a constellation. Three armed men paced around the hall, their eyes sharp and their movements deliberate, while another stood guard outside the large double doors.

Ethan's footsteps echoed on the polished marble floor as he and Falcone moved through the opulent surroundings without pause. They exited the mansion and made their way to a nearby carriage house, a few feet behind the main building. The grounds were just as heavily guarded, with armed men stationed at various points, ever watchful. Two more guards stood at attention outside the carriage house, their expressions unreadable as Ethan and Falcone approached.

Pushing open the door, Ethan stepped inside, and what greeted him was far from what he expected. The carriage house had been transformed into a rabbit haven, housing around a hundred. Adorable Holland Lops, Harlequins, tiny Hermelins, and fluffy Angoras—all were nestled in their own miniature houses. The space had been carefully designed to include a large fenced pasture that served as a communal area for the rabbits to socialize, their soft fur contrasting sharply with the hardened atmosphere outside.