Chapter 7
"Move," Marcus barked, his sharp American accent cutting through the whimpers of the two fallen women.
The bodyguards swarmed the wreckage. Two large men hauled Vivian to her feet, roughly tearing the heavy diamond rings from her fingers and unfastening her expensive watch. Vivian thrashed and screamed, her dignified, elegant persona entirely shattered, but she was no match for the hardened enforcers.
Across the room, another pair of guards dragged Caroline out from beneath the splintered wine rack. She wailed in agony, her hands clutching her bruised face, as the men stripped her of her earrings and necklace.
"Sophia!" Caroline shrieked, looking toward her eight-year-old daughter. "Take Sophia! We have to leave!"
Sophia was huddled in the corner of the dining room, her elegant child's dress trembling as she cried silently. She looked at her mother, but she did not move toward her. The young girl looked utterly terrified of the woman who had just been dismantled.
Roman watched the scene unfold with cold, unblinking eyes. He gently shifted Milo’s weight in his arms.
"Sophia stays," Roman commanded softly.
"You can't take my daughter!" Caroline screamed, struggling violently against the guards holding her arms. "She is mine!"
"You are unfit to raise a dog," Roman said, his voice measuring out the absolute reality of her situation. "Let alone a child in this family. She remains here, under my protection. You will never see her again."
"Roman, please!" Caroline begged, her fair skin stained with tears and spilled red wine. "I’ll do anything! I'll apologize to the boy! I'll get on my knees!"
"It is too late for apologies," Roman replied. He gestured to the door. "Throw them out."
The guards dragged the screaming, sobbing women out of the grand dining room. Their protests echoed down the long, marbled hallways of the estate until the heavy oak front doors slammed shut with a definitive, thundering boom.
The silence that returned to the dining room was heavy, thick with the smell of spilled wine and crushed food. The bright, cinematic lighting cast long shadows across the ruined serving trolley and the shattered wine rack.
Roman looked at the remaining capos and bodyguards. "Clean this up. And send Mrs. Higgins to my study."
"Right away, Boss," Marcus nodded, immediately beginning to direct the men to clear the debris.
Roman walked over to Sophia, who was still cowering in the corner. He knelt down, holding Milo in one arm, and extended his free, tattooed hand to the terrified eight-year-old.
"Come here, Sophia," Roman said, his voice softening just a fraction.
May you like
Sophia hesitated, then slowly stepped forward and took his hand. Her fingers were trembling.
"You are safe here," Roman promised her quietly. "No one will ever hurt you. Come. Let us get you both something real to eat."
