Chapter 7 - A Gathering at the Dining Table
The morning sun broke through the retreating storm clouds, casting brilliant streaks of gold across the manicured lawns and stone fountains of the estate.
Inside the grand dining room, a table built to seat twenty-four people was set for breakfast. Silver platters of fresh fruit, warm pastries, eggs, and smoked bacon covered the mahogany surface, filling the air with rich, comforting aromas.
At the head of the table sat Dominic Russo, wearing a clean white shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms as he read through a stack of legal documents.
Sitting to his immediate right was four-year-old Lily Carter. She was propped up on two oversized leather cushions so her chin reached above the table, happily using a silver fork to eat a stack of blueberry pancakes smothered in syrup. Mr. Buttons sat upright beside her plate, his freshly stitched gold thread seam glowing in the morning light like a badge of honor.
Grace stood near the sideboard, looking awkward and uncomfortable in her neat gray uniform, unused to being in the dining room as a guest rather than a servant.
"Sit down, Grace," Dominic said without looking up from his papers.
"Mr. Russo, it's not appropriate—"
"Grace," Dominic said, finally setting his pen down and looking at her. "In this house, the people who protect my life eat at my table. Sit down and eat breakfast with your daughter."
Grace hesitated for a second, then quietly walked over and took the seat next to Lily. She reached over and adjusted her daughter’s napkin, a small, grateful smile finally washing away the exhaustion that had lined her face for twelve hours.
"Mr. Russo?" Lily asked between bites of pancake, her mouth smeared with blue syrup.
"Yes, Lily?" Dominic answered, his strict expression softening entirely.
"Is the mean lady with the flower perfume coming back?"
Dominic looked at the little girl, reaching out with one finger to tap the tip of her button nose. "No, Lily. The mean lady went away on a very long journey. She won't be coming back here ever again."
Lily nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of her orange juice. "Good. She didn't like Mr. Buttons anyway."
Sal Caruso walked into the dining room carrying a fresh leather folder. He stopped short at the sight of the ruthless syndicate leader calmly wiping syrup off a four-year-old's chin, but he quickly masked his surprise with professional composure.
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"The transport for Florida is ready, boss," Sal reported softly. "And the Moretti accounts in Jersey have been frozen."
"Good," Dominic said, standing up from the table. He turned to Grace and Lily. "Finish your breakfast. Sal will take you both upstairs to pack your things. Your new house in the Adirondacks will be ready by Friday."
