Chapter 7
The en-suite bathroom was a sanctuary of gleaming white marble and polished brass, bathed in the same bright, cinematic natural light as the rest of the estate. Alexander stood by the massive double vanity, the sleeves of his unbuttoned dress shirt rolled up past his elbows, revealing the full extent of his sharp, elegant tattoos. He gently held Sofia’s small hands under the warm running water, using a soft, soapy washcloth to meticulously scrub away the thick, greasy black shoe polish.
"Did it hurt when she pushed you, Sofia?" Alexander asked. His voice was low, slow, and incredibly measured. To his daughter, it sounded soothing. But beneath the surface, the Mafia boss was conducting a very careful interrogation.
"A little bit," Sofia murmured, watching the black suds wash down the drain. "My elbow went boom on the floor."
"I see," Alexander said, gently rinsing her clean fingers. He dried her hands with a plush white towel. "Sofia, look at me."
The three-year-old looked up, her fair, rosy cheeks finally returning to their normal color.
"Who gave you the uniform?" Alexander asked quietly. "Who put the apron on you?"
Sofia frowned, thinking hard. "Miss Martha. She said Veronica was the new boss, and we had to play a game."
Alexander’s jawline visibly tightened. His sharp, intimidating eyes darkened. Martha was the head housekeeper. She had worked for the Vaughn family for five years. She was supposed to be a trusted member of the staff, responsible for the nursery when the nanny was on leave.
"A game," Alexander repeated, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. "Okay, my sweet girl. You did very well. The game is over now."
He wrapped a clean, warm towel around Sofia’s shoulders and lifted her up, carrying her out of the bathroom. He walked down the wide, sunlit corridors of the second floor until he reached the secure nursery. Two bodyguards in dark suits stood outside the door. They immediately stood at attention as their boss approached.
"Not a single person enters this room unless it is me," Alexander ordered, his deep, raspy voice echoing slightly in the quiet hall. "If anyone tries, shoot them."
"Yes, Mr. Vaughn," the guards responded in unison, their American accents crisp and serious.
Alexander carried Sofia inside, setting her gently on her bed. "Play with your toys, Sofia. Daddy will be right outside."
"Are you going to be mad at Miss Martha?" Sofia asked innocently.
"Daddy is just going to have a conversation," Alexander promised, kissing her forehead before stepping out and closing the heavy oak door.
May you like
The moment the door clicked shut, the gentle father vanished entirely. Alexander pulled his secure cell phone from his pocket, his heavily tattooed fingers tapping the screen with lethal precision. He raised the phone to his ear, his eyes cold and entirely dead.
"Bring the head housekeeper to my study," Alexander commanded softly. "And call the capos. We have a leak in the house."
