Chapter 2
The ambient chatter in the immediate vicinity died abruptly. The bright, cinematic lighting seemed to sharpen, throwing the stark reality of the assault into agonizing focus.
Cesare did not shout. He did not curse. He moved with a terrifying, fluid grace, rounding the edge of the velvet-draped table in two long strides. He knelt on the thick carpet, ignoring the sharp crease in his trousers, and gently lifted Avice safely to her feet. He brushed the dust from her soft cardigan, his massive hands incredibly tender against her small, trembling shoulders.
"Are you hurt. Avice?" Cesare asked. His volume remained unnervingly low, yet the danger radiating from his deep voice was palpable, freezing the blood of the surrounding guests.
"No, Grandpa," Avice whispered, her lower lip trembling. She wiped a tear from her rosy cheek and looked down at her empty hands. "My card is gone."
"I will retrieve it," Cesare promised. He slowly turned his head to look at his older sister. "You will never. Touch her. Again. Diane."
"I am maintaining order," Diane scoffed, lifting her chin defiantly, refusing to back down. "Julian’s new child will be the true heir to this family. This girl is a remnant of a past mistake. You spoil her, Cesare, and it makes you look weak."
Julian shifted uncomfortably in his tuxedo, glancing nervously at the nearby capos. "Aunt Diane is just stressed, Father. The gala preparations have been exhausting for all of us."
"Exhaustion. Is not an excuse. For cruelty," Cesare said, his words dropping like heavy stones onto the carpet.
Instead of looking at Diane, Avice’s bright blue eyes drifted toward Vanessa. The little girl stared intensely at Vanessa’s large, swollen belly beneath the elegant evening gown. She tilted her head, profound confusion etching across her innocent, fair face.
"What are you staring at, child?" Vanessa snapped, her composure slipping as she stepped slightly behind her brother, Ethan, who was sipping champagne nearby.
Avice raised a small, trembling finger. She pointed directly past the group, aiming her hand toward the half-open door of the private cloakroom where the family had stored their belongings for the evening.
"Grandpa," Avice said innocently, her voice carrying clearly through the tense silence of the lounge. "Her tummy is a pillow."
The atmosphere in the room shattered instantly.
"What did you just say?" Ethan demanded, his American accent thickening with sudden, violent aggression. He slammed his champagne glass onto a nearby cocktail table.
"I saw it," Avice explained, looking up at Cesare’s face. "When she was changing her dress in the back. She took it off. Her tummy is just a pillow, Grandpa."
Vanessa went completely still. The color drained entirely from her fair skin, leaving her looking like a porcelain ghost under the bright aquarium lights. She exchanged a frantic, terrified glance with her brother.
May you like
"The girl is hallucinating," Vanessa stammered, her hands instinctively moving to cover her belly. "Julian, tell your father she is lying! Children invent ridiculous stories!"
"Avice. Does not lie," Cesare murmured. His sharp, intimidating eyes locked onto Vanessa, dissecting her panic with surgical precision.
