Chapter 7 - Unspoken Lines
The morning after the raid, the Rinaldi estate looked as pristine and peaceful as if nothing had ever happened. The broken bodies had been cleared away, the blood scrubbed from the marble, and the sun was shining brightly over the East River.
Serena stood in the kitchen, pouring milk into four cereal bowls for the quadruplets, who were arguing loudly over who got the blue spoon.
"If you don't stop fighting over the spoon, nobody gets a spoon. You eat with your hands," Serena announced, her voice calm and absolute.
Marco immediately shut his mouth and grabbed a red spoon.
The swinging door opened, and Victor walked in. He wore a crisp, charcoal business suit, freshly shaved, looking every bit the billionaire CEO and untouchable mafia boss. There was no trace of the violence from the night before, save for a faint, dark bruise along his left knuckles.
He walked past the boys, ruffled Tommy’s hair—earning a tiny, rare smile from the quiet boy—and stopped beside the kitchen island where Serena was wiping down the counter.
"The boys have a fencing lesson at four," Victor said quietly, his dark eyes fixed on her profile. "I want you to stay inside the perimeter. No trips into the city today."
Serena stopped wiping. She turned to face him, leaning her hips against the counter. "I have a meeting with my new attorney at two o'clock, Mr. Rinaldi. I can't cancel it. The court date is in three days."
Victor’s jaw tightened. "Dante’s men are still unaccounted for outside the city limits. It’s not safe for you to leave the estate unprotected."
"I am not a prisoner," Serena said, her voice dropping into a sharp, defiant challenge. She stepped closer, lowering her voice so the boys wouldn't overhear. "You gave me the retainer. You gave me the chance to fight for my daughter. But you don't get to lock me in a golden cage, Victor."
The use of his first name hung in the air between them like an electric charge.
Victor stared down at her. The air in the kitchen seemed to grow heavy, the space between them shrinking until Serena could feel the heat radiating off his chest.
"It’s not a cage, Serena," Victor murmured, his voice dropping into a rough, intimate register that made her pulse race. "It’s a fortress. And I built it to keep you alive."
Nico suddenly slammed his spoon down on the table. "Dad! She’s not letting me have extra marshmallows!"
The spell shattered instantly.
May you like
Victor blinked, pulling his gaze away from Serena with visible effort. He cleared his throat, buttoned his suit jacket, and looked down at his sons.
"Give him the marshmallows, Serena," Victor deadpanned. "Before they mutiny."
