Chapter 6
The guests didn't need to be told twice. A mass, hurried exodus began. The rustle of expensive fabrics and the rapid clicking of heels filled the room as the elite society fled the impending slaughterhouse. No one looked back at the ruined cake. No one asked questions. Within five minutes, the vast dining hall was completely empty, save for Rafael and his most loyal bodyguards.
"Clean this up," Rafael commanded quietly to the guards. "Sanitize the room. Lock down the estate perimeter."
"Yes, Boss," the lead bodyguard replied, gesturing for the men to begin the grim work of erasing the violence.
Rafael walked slowly out of the dining room, navigating the long, brightly lit marble corridors of the estate. The cinematic sunlight casting long shadows across the floor seemed to reflect the heavy burden of power he carried. He bypassed his private study and took the private elevator directly to the secure family quarters in the west wing.
The heavy steel doors slid open. The suite was a sanctuary of soft, warm light and plush rugs, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of the dining room below.
Amelia was sitting on the edge of the massive bed, her fair face still pale from the shock of the assault. The nanny stood nearby, wringing her hands nervously.
"Daddy," Amelia whispered, her tiny American accent trembling slightly as Rafael entered the room.
The terrifying, deeply masculine Mafia boss melted away entirely. Rafael crossed the room in three long strides, ignoring the nanny completely. He dropped to his knees beside the bed, bringing himself to eye-level with his daughter.
"Are you alright, my sweet girl?" Rafael asked, his raspy voice cracking with an uncharacteristic, profound emotion. He reached out with his large hands, gently checking the straps of her medical leg brace.
"It hurts a little," Amelia murmured, leaning forward to rest her forehead gently against his shoulder. "Why was Aunt Valeria so mean to me?"
"Because she is a very foolish woman, Amelia," Rafael whispered, kissing the top of her head. "But she is gone now. She will never, ever come back. I promise you."
"Are you going to be mad at Grandma too?" the five-year-old asked innocently.
Rafael’s sharply defined jawline tightened, the memory of his mother’s treason flashing through his mind. But he kept his face incredibly gentle for his daughter.
"Yes, sweetheart," Rafael promised softly. "Grandma went very far away. You are completely safe now."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the heavy gold signet ring he had taken off earlier. He held it up, the polished metal gleaming in the soft light.
"This belongs to you," Rafael said softly, placing the massive ring carefully into Amelia's tiny hand. "You are the heir to this family. No one will ever take that away from you."
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Amelia smiled faintly, closing her fingers around the gold band. "Thank you, Daddy."
"Rest now," Rafael breathed, a sharp, twisting pain in his chest as he stood up. "I have to make some very important phone calls."
