Chapter 6 - Shadows at the DoorThe rest of the day passed peacefully inside the estate, though an undercurrent of tension hovered over the grounds.
I noticed three extra security guards roaming the manicured gardens outside, their eyes constantly scanning the tree line. The house felt like a golden fortress under siege.
Sophia and I spent the afternoon in the sunroom painting watercolors and reading storybooks. For the first time in days, her laughter rang through the high ceilings. She was opening up like a flower receiving sunlight after a long winter storm.
At four o’clock, while Sophia was engrossed in coloring a picture of a magical dragon, I heard raised voices coming from the main foyer.
“I don't care if Dante isn't here, get out of my way!” a sharp, haughty female voice yelled.
“Ma'am, Mr. Russo gave explicit instructions that no unannounced guests are permitted,” Mrs. Gable’s voice responded, sounding panicked.
I stood up, instructing Sophia to stay at the table, and quietly walked out into the upper balcony overlooking the foyer.
Standing at the bottom of the grand staircase was a tall, glamorous woman in a red designer dress, wearing high heels and dark sunglasses. Her blonde hair was styled impeccably, and she carried a snake-skin handbag.
Beside her stood two burly men in leather jackets who looked far more like street thugs than corporate bodyguards.
My blood ran cold.
Julianna.
The mother who had abandoned her daughter three days ago was standing in the foyer, demanding entry.
“Where is my daughter?” Julianna demanded sneeringly, sliding her sunglasses down her nose. “I know she’s here. Tell Dante I came to collect her things.”
“Mrs. Russo—or Miss Vance—you need to leave immediately before security is called,” Mrs. Gable pleaded.
Julianna laughed, a shrill, grating sound. “Call them! Dante locked my accounts, but he can't keep my child’s trust fund paperwork! That money belongs to her, and as her mother, I have legal guardianship until a judge says otherwise!”
She was after money. She hadn't returned out of maternal love or guilt; she had returned because Dante had cut off her financial pipeline, and she needed Sophia’s legal documents to unlock trust funds.
Julianna started marching up the marble stairs.
Every instinct inside me screamed to run back to Sophia’s room and lock the door. Instead, I stood my ground at the top of the landing, blocking the stairs.
“You need to stop right there,” I said, my voice ringing loud and clear across the foyer.
Julianna paused on the sixth step, looking up at me with disgust. “Who the hell are you? The new maid?”
“I’m Sophia’s caretaker,” I replied, keeping my back straight, my heart pounding violently in my ribs. “And you are trespassing.”
“Caretaker?” Julianna snorted, taking another step up. “Get out of my way, little girl. You have no idea who you’re talking to.”
“I know exactly who I’m talking to,” I said coldly, my eyes flashing with anger. “I’m talking to the woman who left a five-year-old child screaming in the dark so she could steal money and run away. You don't get to walk back into her life when you run out of cash.”
Julianna’s face twisted into an ugly mask of rage. “You miserable bitch!”
She signaled one of the thugs behind her. “Grab her and move her out of the way!”
The heavy-set man rushed up the stairs toward me.
Before he could reach the landing, the heavy front oak doors were violently kicked open.
A deafening gun blast echoed through the marble foyer.
The bullet shattered the porcelain vase on the table right beside Julianna’s foot, sending shards flying everywhere. Julianna let out a blood-curdling shriek, stumbling backward down the steps.
Dante Russo stood in the doorway.
His coat was off, his white shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing dark tattoos winding up his forearms. In his right hand, he held a sleek black handgun, smoke still rising faintly from the barrel.
Behind him stood six heavily armed guards, their weapons raised and aimed squarely at Julianna and her men.
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Dante’s face was completely devoid of humanity. He looked like an executing angel of death, his gray eyes burning with lethal, terrifying fury.
“You have five seconds to drop your weapons and get on your knees,” Dante whispered. His voice was low, but it cut through the room like a razor blade. “Or I will bury all three of you under the courtyard garden before the sun sets.”
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