Chapter 11
Nina stopped calling for me.
That was the consequence nobody predicted.
Not because she was afraid of Beatrice.
Because she thought calling created trouble.
I noticed after four days.
Dinner ready.
No knock.
No shout.
Nothing.
I found her sitting outside my study.
Quiet.
Hands folded.
My chest tightened.
“How long have you been here?”
She shrugged.
“Waiting.”
“Why didn’t you come in?”
“Daddy work.”
That sounded like Beatrice.
I crouched.
“You can knock.”
She shook her head.
“No bell.”
“You don’t need the bell.”
She looked uncertain.
“If call, bad people come?”
There.
The device had fused calling with danger.
I sat on the floor beside her.
Suit trousers.
Expensive watch.
Mafia boss sitting in a hallway because his daughter no longer believed she was allowed to interrupt him.
“Listen to me.”
She did.
“When you need me, call me.”
“Any time?”
“If I can come, I come.”
She frowned.
“If not?”
“I tell you when I can.”
“Not mad?”
“No.”
She thought.
Then shouted directly into my face:
“DADDY.”
I nearly laughed.
“Yes?”
She smiled.
“Dinner.”
That was it.
We went.
Over the next weeks, I changed one thing at council.
The door stayed open unless conversation truly required privacy.
Not because Nina needed constant access.
Because nobody in my household should assume approaching me was forbidden.
Staff noticed first.
Then guards.
Then capos.
More information reached me.
Some useless.
Fine.
A cook complained about freezer repairs.
A guard said a rotation made no sense.
A young capo challenged my schedule.
Nothing collapsed.
Caleb had built his entire argument around the idea that accessibility weakens command.
Instead, I discovered how many problems secrecy had allowed to become expensive.
Maybe Elise had known that too.
May you like
The bell had been her joke.
The open door became mine.
