Freezing instantly, she stopped before handing the damaged cane to the mafia boss.

The heavy mahogany doors of the dining hall slammed shut, cutting off Cressida’s hysterical, fading screams. The sudden quiet that followed was absolute, thick with the metallic scent of impending violence. The bright, luminous colors of the room felt surreal against the dark, ruthless reality of the mafia underworld that had just been exposed.

Dante slowly shifted his gaze away from the doors and looked at the crowded tables. Dozens of capos, lieutenants, and politicians sat frozen, their eyes locked on the boss.

"Are you all waiting for permission to leave?" Dante asked, his deep voice slicing through the tension. "Is the evening's entertainment not entirely concluded?"

The dismissal was immediate and effective. Chairs scraped frantically against the cream marble floors. The guests stood up, abandoning their fine porcelain plates and half-empty crystal glasses. They moved with a hurried, terrifying silence, desperate to escape the blast radius of Dante's wrath. Within minutes, the vast, luxurious room was entirely empty of guests, leaving only the soft crackle of the fireplace and the ambient glow of the tall ivory candles.

Only three people remained at the head table: Dante, Leo, and Mara.

Mara still stood beside the table, her hands clutching the sabotaged wooden cane. Her heart was beating so frantically she felt lightheaded. She looked at Dante, unsure if she should retreat to the kitchens or remain by his side.

"Are you alright, Leo?" Dante asked, his voice softening remarkably as he turned to his young son. The cold, furious stare was gone, replaced by a fierce, protective paternal warmth.

Leo nodded slowly, his small hands resting on the table. "I didn't like her, Daddy. She was mean when you weren't looking."

"Why did you wait until tonight to tell me what she said on the telephone?" Dante inquired gently, reaching out his tattooed hand to gently squeeze the boy's shoulder.

"She said if I told you, she would send me away to a boarding school where you could never find me," Leo whispered, looking down at his dress shoes. "I didn't want to leave you."

Dante’s sharp jaw tightened, a fresh wave of murderous anger flaring in his chest for the woman currently being dragged to his basement. "Do you know that no one on this earth could ever take you away from me?" he asked, pulling the boy into a sudden, tight embrace.

"I know now," Leo mumbled into his father's tailored suit.

Dante held his son for a long moment before slowly pulling away. He turned his head and looked up at the young woman in the black maid dress.

"Mara," Dante said quietly. "Will you put that piece of garbage down before it gives you splinters?"

Mara blinked, snapping out of her trance. She quickly placed the sabotaged wooden cane onto the table, stepping back with her hands folded neatly over her white apron.

"Are you injured?" Dante asked, his observant eyes scanning her delicate features for any sign of harm.