Chapter 3 - THE VALENTI THREAT
The room fell into an icy silence.
The Valenti family was the Morettis' oldest rival in the tri-state area—a ruthless syndicate that had been pushed out of Manhattan shipping ports by Dominic three years prior. Targeting an eight-year-old child was a declaration of absolute, unrestricted war.
Dominic stood up slowly. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't strike out. He simply looked at Frankie.
"Secure Brenda in the gatehouse basement," Dominic ordered. "Get her brother out of Brooklyn safely. We need him alive so she talks to the federal prosecutors when this is over."
"Yes, Boss," Frankie said, signaling two guards to haul the weeping woman away.
Dominic turned back to the rest of the staff. "The rest of you go back to your quarters. Tonight stays inside these walls."
As the staff scattered in record time, I knelt by the armchair to pick up Lily. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely clasp my fingers together. The realization of how close my daughter had been to a syndicate plot sent a sickening shudder through my core.
"Clara."
I looked up. Dominic was standing beside the chair.
"You and Lily are moving up to the west wing guest suites tonight," Dominic said. "My private security detail handles that floor directly."
"Mr. Moretti, we can stay in the staff cottage—"
"You're not staying in the cottage," Dominic cut in firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The people who did this know Lily saw the intruder's face. You think I’m going to let the little girl who saved my son sleep in an unsecured outbuilding?"
I swallowed hard, holding Lily tighter. "No, sir."
He reached out, his large, calloused hand hovering for a second before gently brushing a strand of dark hair away from Lily's sleeping face.
"She has more courage in her small finger than half the men in my organization," Dominic murmured. "I don't forget debts, Clara. Especially not ones involving my son."
May you like
Later that night, in a grand guest suite decorated in warm cream and gold tones, I tucked Lily into a king-sized bed. The room had triple-pane reinforced glass windows and a heavy solid-core door monitored by two armed guards outside in the hall.
For the first time in six years, I saw Dominic Moretti not just as an intimidating employer, but as a father who would tear the world apart to keep his child safe. And as I lay down beside Lily, watching her peaceful breathing, I realized that our quiet life in the background of this estate was officially over.
