Chapter 10
He looked at the broken socialite one last time.
"Have you finally realized the price of your ambition, Isadora?" Dante asked softly.
Vincent and another massive security guard in dark suits marched forward. They hauled Isadora roughly to her feet. She shrieked, thrashing wildly against their iron grip, but they were unyielding.
"You will regret this, Dante!" she screamed as they dragged her backward toward the doors. "You will all burn for this!"
"Will you convey my deepest regards to your father when I send him the pieces of his syndicate?" Dante asked quietly, watching the doors slam shut.
The profound, ringing silence of the grand salon settled heavily over the remaining figures. The cascading crystal chandeliers continued to cast their warm golden light over the harvest wreaths and the towering candles. The opulent space, designed for celebration, now felt entirely different—it was a sanctuary of protection.
Dante stood silently for a moment, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a slow, controlled breath. The betrayal was absolute, the upcoming syndicate war with Isadora’s father inevitable, but the immediate, toxic sickness within his home had been surgically removed. Now, he had to secure his family and the woman who had suffered to protect them.
He turned his body, pivoting seamlessly on the polished marble floors, and focused his entire attention back on Nora, Walter, and Poppy.
Walter was securing his prosthetic leg beneath the lap blanket, his face flushed with a mixture of regained pride and profound exhaustion. Poppy was holding onto Nora's hand tightly, watching the adults with wide, innocent eyes.
Nora was standing close beside the wheelchair, her hands trembling slightly. Her beautiful features were pale, her eyes wide with a mixture of residual terror and profound, protective relief. She looked up at the towering mafia boss, her breathing shallow and ragged.
Dante crouched down, his tailored suit shifting smoothly. He looked his three-year-old daughter in the eye, keeping his large, tattooed hands steady.
"Are you unharmed, Poppy?" Dante asked, his deep voice softening significantly, losing its lethal, interrogative edge.
Poppy looked at her father, her round rosy cheeks lifting into a soft, relieved smile. "I'm okay, Daddy. Did Auntie go to timeout?"
"She did, sweetheart," Dante murmured, his thumb gently brushing his daughter's soft curls. "You are a very brave girl. You helped us find the truth."
He stood back up and shifted his gaze to Nora.
The beautiful housemaid was watching him, her exhausted eyes drawn together in quiet empathy. She had endured psychological terror and risked her life simply because she had demanded respect for an old man. The fierce, gentle loyalty she had displayed was a rare, precious commodity in Dante's dark, violent world.
"You are no longer a maid in this house, Nora," Dante stated, his voice a low, gravelly command laced with profound affection. "From this moment forward, you answer to no one but me. You will move into the secure wing tonight."
Nora’s breath hitched. The magnitude of the offer, and the absolute safety it provided, was overwhelming. "Thank you, Dante," she whispered.
Before Dante could respond, a bloodied security operative stumbled into the room, gasping for breath.
"Is the perimeter breached?" Dante asked, spinning around, reaching for his weapon.
"Yes, Boss!" the operative choked out. "The Reed syndicate didn't wait! They hit the outer gates! We have multiple hostiles on the grounds!"
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Dante looked back at Nora, his cold eyes burning with an unyielding, protective fire.
"Shall we show them exactly what it costs to threaten my family?" Dante asked, racking the slide of his handgun as the estate's high-pitched security sirens began to wail, signaling the brutal beginning of a mafia war.
