Chapter 4 - The Dinner Invitation
By Friday evening, the storm had passed, leaving the estate surrounded by a crisp, autumn chill.
The atmosphere in the main house was suffocatingly tense. Rumors had reached the staff that a major meeting was scheduled for eight o'clock—a gathering of the heads of the five New York families to resolve the waterfront dispute that Adrian had refused to yield on.
At seven, Elena was finishing her shift in the primary dining hall. The long table, capable of seating twenty-four people, was set with gold-rimmed porcelain, silver cutlery, and crystal stemware.
Mia sat in the corner of the room on a low stool, quietly coloring a picture of a dragon in a preschool activity book.
The heavy doors opened, and Adrian walked in.
He was dressed in a pristine black tuxedo, his white shirt sharp against his dark skin, his dark hair freshly trimmed. He looked every inch the undisputed sovereign of the Moretti empire—formidable, elegant, and entirely unreachable.
Elena immediately stood straight, dropping her eyes to the floor. "Mr. Moretti. The table is set according to your specifications."
Adrian stopped near the head of the table. His grey eyes swept over the gleaming crystal, then moved to the corner of the room where Mia was coloring.
"Where is she eating tonight?" Adrian asked.
Elena blinked, caught off guard. "Mia? She eats with me in the staff pantry, sir."
"No," Adrian said.
Elena raised her head. "Sir?"
"She will eat here," Adrian declared calmly.
Elena’s stomach plummeted. "Mr. Moretti, that isn't appropriate. You have guests coming. Important men. This is a business dinner."
"I am aware of who is coming," Adrian replied, his voice dropping into a deep, smooth cadence. "They are men who believe that cruelty is strength and that intimidation is power. They need to be reminded of where they are."
He walked over to the head of the table, pulled out the heavy carved chair that belonged to the master of the house, and looked at Mia.
"Mia," he called out.
The little girl looked up from her coloring book. "Yes, Mr. Grumpy?"
"Are you hungry?"
"I want macaroni," she stated plainly.
Adrian turned his head toward the butler, who was standing near the sideboard, looking as if he had just been struck by lightning.
"Tell the chef to prepare macaroni and cheese," Adrian ordered. "Use the good cheddar."
"Mr. Moretti, please," Elena pleaded, stepping between Adrian and her daughter. Her hands were shaking, but her voice was fierce with maternal protection. "Do not do this. Do not use my daughter to make a point to your associates. She is three years old!"
Adrian turned his gaze back to Elena. For a long second, the room was so quiet that the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer sounded like a hammer against stone.
"Do you think I would let anyone in this room harm her, Elena?" Adrian asked softly.
"I think dangerous men bring danger with them," Elena said bravely, meeting his grey eyes without flinching. "And you are the most dangerous man in this city."
A faint, almost imperceptible shadow passed over Adrian’s face. It was the first time Elena had seen a crack in his armor—a brief glimpse of a man who felt the weight of every word she had just spoken.
"You are right," Adrian said quietly. "I am dangerous. But I am also the only man in this city who can guarantee that no one touches you or your child."
He pointed to the chair beside his own at the head of the table.
"Sit with us, Elena."
Elena stared at him, her breath catching in her throat. "Sit... with you?"
"You are not cleaning this room tonight," Adrian said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You are sitting at my right hand. Both of you."
May you like
Before Elena could process his words, the heavy front doors of the mansion creaked open, and the sound of multiple heavy footsteps echoed down the grand hallway.
The guests had arrived.
