Chapter 6
The heavy mahogany doors of the dining room slammed shut behind the disgraced women, echoing with a final, booming thud. The bright, vivid room was suddenly devoid of the immediate conflict, but the air remained thick with residual adrenaline. The remaining family members, uncles, and cousins stood frozen, their fair skin pale, fully aware that they had just witnessed the dismantling of the old regime.
Rafael looked down at Amelia. The five-year-old was clutching the heavy gold signet ring to her chest, her blue eyes wide and frightened.
"Daddy, are they coming back?" Amelia whimpered, her American accent trembling with unshed tears. "Grandma looked so mad."
"They are never coming back, sweetheart," Rafael promised, his voice softening only for her. He knelt and picked her up, settling her securely against his broad chest. "You are the only heir to this family. You hold the ring. Do you understand?"
Amelia nodded slowly, resting her head against his shoulder.
Rafael turned his attention back to the frozen guests. His dark, intimidating gaze swept over the men in their formal dinner clothing. "If any man in this room wishes to leave with my mother, the door is open. If you stay, you swear absolute, unquestioning loyalty to me and to my daughter. There will be no second chances. There will be no secret meetings."
A senior capo, a man with silver hair and a sharp suit, stepped forward immediately and bowed his head. "We are with you, Rafael. Beatrice overstepped. The girl is your blood. That is all that matters."
"Good," Rafael said. He looked at his second-in-command. "Silas. Lock down the estate. I want armed patrols doubled on the perimeter walls. No vehicles enter or leave without my direct authorization."
"Understood, Boss," Silas replied, already reaching for his earpiece. "What about the outer territories? Beatrice will definitely try to contact the Chicago families from a payphone the second she's off the property."
"Let her try," Rafael commanded, walking toward the private exit at the rear of the dining room. "Contact our bankers in Zurich. Freeze every single account associated with Beatrice and Valeria. Cancel their credit lines, their passports, and their private transit passes. I want them cut off from the world before their bags hit the pavement outside my gates."
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"It will be done immediately."
"And Silas?" Rafael paused at the door, the bright light casting a sharp shadow across his handsome face. "If you intercept any communications between my mother and Chicago... trace the location. We are going to war, and I want to know exactly where the front line is."
