Chapter 1 - The Cruel Laugh
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The silence in the dining room was absolute, heavy enough to crush the breath from my lungs.
Twelve powerful executives stared at my seven-year-old daughter.
Lily stood perfectly still, pointing her small finger at the empty walnut chair at the far end of the mahogany table. She had just asked the most feared man in the city if she could join his private business dinner.
Before Damian Bellucci could answer, a sharp, melodic laugh shattered the quiet.
Selene Vale leaned back in her chair, the diamonds at her throat catching the candlelight. She looked at Lily the way one might look at a stray dog that had wandered onto a pristine golf course.
“Oh, darling,” Selene chuckled, exchanging a disbelieving look with her father, who sat two seats down. “This isn’t a soup kitchen. The staff quarters are down the hall for a reason.”
My blood turned to ice.
I didn't care about the executives. I didn't care about the wealth in the room. The maternal rage that flared inside my chest was blinding, absolute, and entirely reckless.
I stepped away from the service door, leaving the silver coffee pot on the sideboard. I didn't rush, but my strides were purposeful. I walked directly to my daughter and placed my hands gently on her small shoulders.
“Come, Lily,” I said, my voice eerily calm, devoid of the submissive tone expected of the household staff. “We’re leaving.”
“Wait,” Selene said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “She should apologize to Mr. Bellucci for interrupting his meeting. It’s only proper.”
I stopped. I didn't look at Damian. I looked directly into Selene’s perfectly contoured face.
“My daughter was hungry,” I stated clearly, my voice carrying over the crackling fireplace. “She asked a polite question. She will apologize to nobody.”
The room collectively gasped. A maid speaking back to the future Mrs. Bellucci was a fireable offense, likely a dangerous one.
Selene’s eyes narrowed into terrifying, venomous slits. “Excuse me?”
But before Selene could demand my immediate termination, the deep, gravelly voice of the mafia boss cut through the room.
“There is no need for an apology,” Damian Bellucci said.
He didn't look at Selene. His dark, impenetrable eyes were fixed entirely on Lily.
He pushed his own chair back, standing up to his full, intimidating height. He walked the length of the long table, the executives instinctively leaning away from his path.
He stopped at the empty walnut chair.
May you like
With a smooth, deliberate motion, Damian pulled the chair out.
“You may sit with me, Lily,” Damian said, his voice softer than anyone in that room had ever heard it. “There is always room at my table.”
