Elodie Mancini tumbled hard onto the carpet in her simple dress and cardigan

The devastating reality of Vittorio’s decree crashed over the hallway like a tidal wave. The bright, vivid colors of the estate felt entirely surreal against the dark, permanent fracture of the Mancini family. Donatella stared at her designer luggage on the carpet, her chest heaving as the impossibility of the situation finally took root in her mind.

"You are throwing us out?" Donatella gasped, her voice trembling not with rage, but with genuine, unadulterated shock. "You are exiling your own mother and brother from the family estate? Over a bedroom?"

"I am excising a tumor from my home," Vittorio corrected her coldly. His deep, masculine presence was a suffocating weight in the corridor. "This is not about a bedroom. This is about your fundamental inability to respect my bloodline and my authority. You shoved my five-year-old daughter to the floor. There is no coming back from that."

Rocco scrambled forward, his tailored suit wrinkling as he desperately tried to backpedal. The prospect of losing the immense wealth and protection of the Mancini estate terrified him.

"Vittorio, listen to reason," Rocco pleaded, raising his hands in a placating gesture. The arrogant underboss was completely gone, replaced by a panicked, desperate man. "We can fix this. I’ll move my boxes back down to the guest wing right now. I’ll personally apologize to Elodie. You don’t have to do this. A family divided is weak!"

"A family that harbors traitors is already dead," Vittorio replied smoothly. He didn't even look at Rocco. He kept his cold, intimidating eyes locked on his mother. "You issued an ultimatum, Mother. You said Rocco walks with the family. So, walk."

"You will regret this, Vittorio," Donatella hissed, her fair face twisting into a mask of pure, venomous hatred. She realized there was no negotiating with the monster she had raised. "The capos will not follow a man who discards his own blood for a child. They will see you as weak. They will flock to Rocco. We will take the city from you."

"Let them try," Vittorio murmured, a dark, terrifying smile touching the corners of his mouth. "I will enjoy reminding them why I wear the ring."

He turned his back on them, an ultimate gesture of dismissal. He walked over to Elodie, who was still clutching her stuffed rabbit tightly against her small dress.

Vittorio dropped to one knee, ignoring the chaos behind him. He reached out and gently lifted his daughter into his arms, pulling her warm, small body against his chest.

"It's over, Elodie," Vittorio whispered, his deep voice thick with absolute, protective love. "Nobody is ever going to make you leave your room again. I promise."