Chapter 2 - The Ring on the Marble
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Bianca’s face drained of all color. The haughty, untouchable heiress of the Moretti empire looked as though she had been slapped.
“You’re joking,” she stuttered, forcing a hollow laugh. “Dominic, our families are signing the treaty tonight! The Commission is downstairs in the ballroom right now! You can’t break our engagement over a lying, worthless maid!”
Dominic didn't raise his voice. He didn't break into a rage. He simply took one step closer to her.
The two armed guards behind him shifted their posture, unbuttoning their suit jackets to reveal the black handles of their sidearms. They weren't looking at Bianca. They were watching her two personal bodyguards, who had frozen near the entrance.
“My mother’s mind may wander,” Dominic said, his voice dropping an octave, echoing off the glass walls. “But her heart knows the truth. And my maid has more honor in her blood-stained apron than your entire family possesses in their vaults.”
“Dominic!” Bianca gasped, her lower lip quivering with genuine terror.
“If you do not take that ring off your finger within three seconds,” Dominic continued, “my men will strip it off you. And I guarantee they won't be gentle.”
Bianca looked around the conservatory, searching for help, but her bodyguards refused to meet her eyes. They knew the rules of the Rossi estate: Dominic Rossi’s word was absolute law.
With trembling, manicured hands, Bianca yanked the diamond ring from her finger. She tossed it onto the glass-topped table, where it landed with a loud, sharp clink.
“My father will destroy you for this,” she spat, her eyes burning with pure hatred. “The Moretti family will tear the Rossi syndicate apart piece by piece!”
“Let Vance Moretti try,” Dominic replied coldly. “Marco, escort Miss Moretti to her vehicle. If she steps foot on Rossi property again, shoot her.”
“Yes, Boss,” Marco replied, stepping forward and taking Bianca roughly by the arm.
“Get your filthy hands off me!” Bianca shrieked as she was dragged down the corridor. “You’ll regret this, Dominic! You’ll both rot in hell!”
Her screams faded down the hallway.
The moment she was gone, Dominic turned back to where I was kneeling on the cold floor. Carmela was still holding my shoulder, her tears falling onto my blood-soaked apron.
Dominic knelt back down. Without saying a word, he slid one powerful arm beneath my knees and the other behind my back, scooping me up into his arms effortlessly.
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“Mr. Rossi, please—I can walk—” I protested, my face burning despite the agony in my cheek.
“Quiet, Skyler,” Dominic said softly, holding me firmly against his chest. “You’ve bled enough for my family tonight. Now let me take care of you.”
