Chapter 1 - The Name of the King
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“I didn’t know she was your daughter.”
The words escaped Gavin’s mouth before he understood how terrible they sounded. He took a stumbling step backward, his face draining of all color. The Gilded Spoon, usually buzzing with the lunchtime chatter of Chicago’s elite, was completely silent.
Dominic Valenti did not raise his voice. He didn’t have to. The quiet menace in his tone was enough to suck the oxygen out of the room.
“So,” Dominic said smoothly, adjusting the cuff of his charcoal suit, “if this little girl belonged to a nobody—a mechanic, a teacher, a waitress—grabbing her hard enough to leave bruises would be perfectly acceptable to you?”
“No! Sir, that is not what I meant. I was just trying to protect the restaurant’s property. The crystal—”
“The crystal is sand and heat,” Dominic interrupted, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. “My daughter is blood and bone. And you put your hands on her.”
Gavin swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead. He looked around the restaurant, searching for someone, anyone, to intervene. But the wealthy patrons were suddenly very interested in their plates. No one crossed the Valenti family. No one.
“Mr. Valenti, please. It was a misunderstanding.”
“The only misunderstanding,” Dominic said, his gray eyes flashing with lethal intent, “is your assumption that you have a future in this city.”
Dominic turned his attention to Cassidy. She was still standing defensively in front of Bella, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
“You,” Dominic said, his gaze sweeping over her faded uniform, her name tag, and the fierce, protective set of her jaw. “You stood between a grown man and a child you do not know. Even when he threatened your livelihood.”
“She’s a little girl,” Cassidy said, her voice shaking but resolute. “He had no right.”
“No,” Dominic agreed softly. “He did not.”
He looked down at Bella, who was still clutching Cassidy’s apron. He extended his hand.
“Come, Principessa. We are leaving.”
Bella hesitated, looking up at Cassidy. Slowly, the little girl let go of the apron and took her father’s hand.
Dominic looked back at Gavin one last time. “You fired her?”
May you like
“I… yes, sir, but—”
“Good,” Dominic said. He pulled a sleek black business card from his pocket and held it out to Cassidy. “My car will be waiting outside this restaurant in exactly ten minutes, Miss Tate. Do not be late.”
