Chapter 10
Inside the quiet sanctuary of the primary suite, the bright video colors of the room felt peaceful and warm. The cinematic light poured through the large bedroom window, illuminating Greta as she finished smoothing the floral bedding on the plush mattress.
"Thank you, Greta," Vittorio said softly, setting Elodie down gently on the edge of the bed. "You did well today. Your loyalty will not be forgotten."
"Thank you, Mr. Vittorio," Greta whispered, bowing her head respectfully. Her fair, rosy skin was still pale from the adrenaline, but a profound sense of relief washed over her. She quickly excused herself, closing the bedroom door quietly behind her.
Vittorio knelt beside the bed. He reached out and gently straightened Elodie’s soft cardigan, making sure she was perfectly comfortable. The little girl hugged her stuffed rabbit tightly, her bright eyes looking at her father with absolute, unwavering trust.
"Daddy, why was Grandma so mean?" Elodie asked, her tiny American accent tinged with residual sadness.
"Some people have very dark hearts, Elodie," Vittorio murmured, his deep, masculine voice incredibly tender. "They care more about power and rooms than they care about love. But you don't ever have to worry about them again. I will always protect you."
"I love you, Daddy," Elodie smiled, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.
"I love you too, my sweet girl," Vittorio promised. "Why don't you play with your rabbit for a little while? Daddy has to make a quick phone call, and then we will have your favorite dinner."
"Okay!" Elodie agreed cheerfully, her resilience shining through as she bounded up onto the center of her large, soft bed.
Vittorio stood up, offering her one last warm smile before turning and walking through the adjoining door into his private master study.
The moment the heavy door clicked shut, the warm, protective father vanished entirely. The terrifying, cold-blooded Mafia boss re-emerged in the quiet, mahogany-paneled room. The cinematic lighting cast sharp, intimidating shadows across his angular face and extremely short stubble.
He walked over to his massive oak desk. He didn't sit down. He reached out and picked up an encrypted, heavy black smartphone.
He knew exactly what his mother and brother were doing at this very second. They were angry, humiliated, and desperate. They would reach out to the rival families. They would attempt to fracture his syndicate and plunge the city into a violent, bloody civil war to reclaim their lost status.
Vittorio dialed a secure number. The line connected immediately.
"Silas," Vittorio said, addressing his most ruthless, loyal capo. His voice was a low, dead-calm rumble that promised apocalyptic violence.
"Yes, Boss. We saw them leave the property," Silas replied instantly.
"They are going to the northern families to seek an alliance," Vittorio stated coldly, his eyes staring out the window toward the city skyline. "Mobilize the strike teams. Arm every loyal man on the payroll. I want the northern warehouses surrounded by midnight."
"Are we moving to a wartime footing, Mr. Mancini?" Silas asked, his voice tightening with adrenaline.
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"We are," Vittorio whispered, the final, lethal decree hanging heavily in the bright, cinematic air. "If they want a war for this throne, we will give them an absolute massacre."
The line went silent as Vittorio hung up the phone. He adjusted the cuffs of his tailored suit, his jaw locked in stone. The battle for his empire had officially begun, and he was ready to burn the city to the ground to keep his daughter safe.
