Chapter 10
The sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long, dramatic shadows across the manicured lawns of the Bellucci estate, though the cinematic lighting remained vivid and bright. The beautiful garden party had been entirely transformed into a secure holding area. The terrified, wealthy guests were being systematically processed and escorted off the property by heavily armed guards, warned in no uncertain terms to keep their mouths completely shut about the afternoon's events.
Dominic stood on the stone terrace, watching the methodical efficiency of his men. The air was cool, the scent of crushed silk flowers and spilled champagne lingering heavily.
"The perimeter is entirely locked down, Boss," a senior lieutenant reported, stepping up beside him. "The guests are gone. Marcus and Vivienne have been relocated to the soundproof holding cells in the basement. They are isolated and secured."
"Good," Dominic nodded, his handsome, angular face set in a mask of flawless stone. He pulled his smartphone from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. "Has the strike team breached the eastern warehouse yet?"
"They just radioed in," the lieutenant confirmed, a fierce, loyal gleam in his eye. "The Cross guards surrendered without firing a shot once they realized the alliance was dead. We have secured over ten million dollars in untraceable inventory. The building is being prepped for incineration."
"Burn it," Dominic commanded softly. "Make sure the smoke is visible from their father's penthouse."
"Consider it done."
Dominic dismissed the lieutenant with a subtle nod. He walked slowly back into the massive, quiet estate. The adrenaline of the confrontation was fading, leaving behind a cold, calculated clarity. He had severed a major political alliance, a move that would undoubtedly cause massive shockwaves through the criminal underworld, but he felt absolutely no regret.
He ascended the grand staircase, his polished leather shoes silent on the plush carpet. He navigated the wide, brightly lit corridors until he reached the heavy oak doors of the master wing.
Two heavily armed guards stood at attention, nodding respectfully as he approached. Dominic pushed the door open and stepped into the suite.
The room was warm and quiet. Elena, the young estate maid, was sitting in a plush armchair, reading a storybook softly. Aria was fast asleep in the center of the massive, custom-built bed. The little girl was dressed in soft, clean pajamas, her fair, rosy face peaceful, the swelling on her cheek already being treated with medical ointment.
Dominic walked over to the bed, utterly disregarding his tailored suit as he sat gently on the edge. He reached out and lightly stroked his daughter's soft, fine hair. Resting securely on the pillow beside her small face was her late mother's gold wedding band.
"She went to sleep easily, Mr. Bellucci," Elena whispered, closing the book and standing up respectfully.
"Thank you, Elena," Dominic murmured, his deep voice thick with paternal warmth. "You will be permanently assigned to her detail. Whatever she needs, you ensure she has it."
"It would be an honor, sir," Elena smiled softly before slipping out of the room to give him privacy.
Dominic sat in the quiet, bright room, watching his daughter breathe. The violent world outside the estate gates was currently tearing itself apart on his orders, but in this room, there was only profound, untouchable peace.
He leaned down and kissed Aria’s forehead. The charming, romantic aesthetic completely returned to his face as he looked at her.
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"Sleep well, my angel," Dominic whispered into the quiet room. "Daddy is going to make sure the monsters never come back."
He stood up, adjusting his suit jacket, his cold, intimidating eyes hardening once more as he turned toward the door. The war had officially begun, and Damian Bellucci was ready to show the entire city exactly why he was the undisputed king.
