Chapter 3
The bright, natural sunlight of the breakfast room suddenly felt oppressive, casting sharp, unforgiving shadows across the faces of the traitors. Vittorio held Lucy firmly against his chest. He could feel her tiny heart racing like a trapped bird's.
"Daddy," Lucy sobbed, her voice muffled against the fine wool of his tailored three-piece suit. Her tiny fingers dug into his lapels. "Daddy… But I’m a human being."
The words struck Vittorio with the physical force of a sledgehammer. The profound, heartbreaking innocence of his daughter's plea shattered whatever fragile restraint he had left. The temperature in the room plummeted to absolute zero.
"Vittorio, darling, please listen to me," Bianca stammered, taking a desperate step backward, her high heels clicking erratically on the floorboards. "It was just a discipline exercise. She was throwing a tantrum and ruining her expensive dresses. I was trying to teach her a lesson about gratitude!"
"You put my blood. In rags," Vittorio whispered. His voice was incredibly deep, slightly raspy, and naturally authoritative. He spoke slowly, with controlled pauses between words, keeping his volume low, which only amplified the terrifying menace radiating from his masculine frame.
Near the doorway, the young housekeeper finally found her courage.
"Mr. Romano," Emma Clark said, her voice shaking violently as she stepped out of the shadows.
Marcus Hale’s head snapped toward the maid, his eyes widening as he realized they had not been alone. "Shut your mouth, Emma, or I'll cut your tongue out," Marcus snarled.
"Speak," Vittorio commanded, his cold, sharp eyes shifting to the twenty-five-year-old housekeeper.
Emma stepped fully into the bright cinematic light. Her professional maid uniform trembled as she raised her hands. She held her smartphone out, the screen glowing brightly.
"She has been doing this all week, sir," Emma said, tears of profound relief and terror spilling down her rosy cheeks. "I was too afraid to say anything because Mr. Hale threatened my family. But I recorded it. I recorded everything."
"You lying little bitch!" Bianca screamed, her face twisting into an ugly mask of sheer panic.
Emma tapped the screen and turned the phone so Vittorio could see it. The high-definition footage played clearly. It showed Bianca forcefully shoving Lucy toward the dog bowl, laughing and cursing at the child. In the background of the video, Marcus stood near the heavy wooden doors, laughing cruelly and pulling them shut to ensure no one in the estate could hear the child’s screams.
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"Turn that off!" Marcus roared, his face flushing a violent, panicked red.
Realizing the video was an absolute death sentence, Marcus abandoned all logic. He suddenly lunged across the room, his expensive leather shoes scrambling for traction, his large hands reaching out to violently snatch Emma’s phone and smash the evidence.
