Chapter 7
The bright, luminous colors of the dining hall felt like an interrogation spotlight as Aurelia stared at the heavy diamond engagement ring on her trembling finger. The soft elegant warmth of the room provided no comfort for her shattered ambitions. She had played a dangerous, controlling game, assuming her beauty and her ruthless ambition made her immune to the boss's legendary judgment. She had miscalculated completely.
"You can't do this, Dante," Aurelia hissed, panic mutating into cornered, vicious entitlement. "My family brings the eastern ports to this alliance. If you touch me, my father will declare war. He will shut down your supply lines."
"Will he declare war?" Dante asked, tilting his head with dangerous curiosity. The loose strands of wavy hair falling over his forehead contrasted violently with the absolute, apocalyptic death promised in his cold eyes. "Or will he thank me for returning his defective, murderous daughter before she caused a war he could not possibly win?"
Aurelia’s mouth dropped open. The color drained entirely from her lips. She realized she had absolutely no power left in the room.
"Get your hands off me!" Aurelia screamed as two massive men in tailored dark suits stepped forward and grabbed her by the arms. She thrashed wildly, her sculpted emerald satin gown twisting awkwardly around her legs. "You are choosing a servant and a bastard over a queen! You are a fool, Dante!"
"Are empires built by men who allow children to be tortured in their own homes?" Dante inquired, entirely unaffected by her venom.
He turned his back on her, an ultimate gesture of dismissal. Aurelia's furious, terrified screams echoed through the bright, airy room as she was dragged away, fading only when the heavy double doors slammed shut.
Dante turned his full attention back to the beautiful housemaid and the little girl. The cold, terrifying edge of the Mafia boss softened considerably as he looked down at little Ruby.
The three-year-old girl was crying softly, burying her face into Fiona's white apron. The rejection by her mother was a profound, agonizing trauma.
Dante slowly dropped to one knee, entirely disregarding his tailored dark three-piece suit. He brought himself down to the child's eye level. He reached out with his heavily tattooed hand, his fingers moving with profound, unexpected gentleness. He gently brushed a tear from Ruby's fair, rosy cheek.
"Are you safe now, little one?" Dante asked, his deep voice returning to a warm, comforting rumble.
Ruby sniffled, looking at the tall, imposing man with wide, innocent eyes. She nodded slowly, clinging tighter to Fiona's hand.
"Will you allow my private physician to examine her immediately, Fiona?" Dante asked, looking up into the housemaid's expressive eyes.
"Of course, Mr. Winslow," Fiona replied, her American accent steadying as the adrenaline surged through her veins. "She is exhausted and very hungry."
"Do you understand the magnitude of the debt I owe you tonight?" Dante asked, looking deeply into her softly heart-shaped face.
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Fiona’s fair, rosy cheeks flushed a delicate pink under his intense, perceptive gaze. "I only did what was right, sir. I couldn't leave her in the dark."
"Is bravery not the rarest commodity in our world?" Dante questioned, bowing his head slightly in a profound gesture of respect.
