Chapter 3 - The Broken Toy
That evening, a heavy fog rolled in off the Sound, swallowing the estate in a cold, white blanket.
Dominic sat in his dark mahogany study, surrounded by ledger books, wiretap reports, and maps of the city docks. The weight of his criminal empire sat heavy on his broad shoulders, but the burden in his chest was far heavier.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Enter," Dominic growled, not looking up from a shipping manifest.
The door creaked open, but instead of his chief enforcer or Evelyn, a tiny figure stepped inside.
Mia stood on the thick Persian rug, wearing her flannel pajamas with little yellow ducks on them. She was carrying a half-eaten green apple.
Dominic froze, his dark eyebrows pulling together. "Where is your mother?"
"She’s ironing your shirts," Mia said matter-of-factly, walking right up to his massive oak desk. She placed her green apple directly on top of his top-secret syndicate ledger. "You look moody."
Dominic stared at the small child, completely flabbergasted. Men who controlled entire districts of the city trembled when he walked into a room. Yet this three-year-old was looking at him as if he were a giant, slow-witted bear.
"You should not be in here," Dominic said, his deep voice resonant.
"The crunchy lady made Leo cry," Mia announced, leaning her elbows on his desk.
Dominic’s posture went instantly stone-still. His gray eyes narrowed into lethal slits. "What did you say?"
"The lady with the crunchy face," Mia repeated, making a sour face. "And the man with the needle bag. They put stink-water in Leo's ears. It hurts him. He squeezed his rabbit until it got sad."
Before Dominic could respond, Elena rushed into the study, her cheeks flushed with panic. "Mia! Oh God, I am so sorry, Mr. Moretti! She slipped out while I was in the laundry room—"
Elena grabbed Mia’s hand, pulling her back, her eyes wide with fear. She knew how dangerous men like Dominic could be when their privacy was violated.
Dominic slowly stood up, his tall frame blocking out the warm light of the desk lamp. "Miss Rossi."
"Yes, sir?" Elena’s voice trembled slightly.
"Did Vanessa and Dr. Vance visit Leo’s room today?"
Elena hesitated. She knew the golden rule of surviving among the powerful: never get caught between a king and his mistress. But then she remembered Leo’s terrified, tear-stained face, and the ghost of her own lost child whispered in her ear.
"Yes, sir," Elena said clearly, looking Dominic straight in the eye. "They administered his scheduled ear medication."
"And how did my son react?"
Elena swallowed hard. "He was terrified, Mr. Moretti. He didn't make a sound, but his entire body trembled. And..." She paused, taking a breath. "I don't believe he is as deaf as your doctors claim."
The air in the study turned instantly icy.
Dominic stepped out from behind the desk, his massive presence towering over Elena. "Careful, Miss Rossi. Dr. Vance is the top pediatric neurologist in the state. He was recommended by Vanessa’s father after my wife died. Are you suggesting my son’s medical diagnosis is a lie?"
"I am suggesting," Elena said, her voice growing steady and fierce, "that a mother knows when a child is in pain. I lost my son three years ago, Mr. Moretti. I know what a suffering child looks like. Leo is not just sick. He is afraid."
Dominic stared at her. The intensity in her brown eyes was so raw, so unyielding, that for the first time in two years, the impenetrable wall around his heart shuddered.
He looked down at Mia, who was munching happily on her apple, completely unbothered by the life-and-death tension in the room.
"Leave us," Dominic commanded quietly.
Elena nodded, taking Mia’s hand and quickly retreating into the hallway.
When the heavy doors closed, Dominic walked over to the tall windows overlooking the fog-drenched gardens. He looked at his own reflection in the glass—a man who could eliminate any enemy with a single word, yet remained completely blind to what was happening inside his own home.
May you like
He pulled his encrypted phone from his jacket pocket and dialed a single number.
"Gabriel," Dominic ordered softly to his chief of security. "I want a full, covert background check on Dr. Marcus Vance. Every bank account, every offshore transfer, every meeting he’s had for the last three years. And I want it done by morning."
