Chapter 10 - The Shadowed Throne
Marcus squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head frantically as tears streamed down his fair skin. The broken guard was caught between the wrath of the Mafia Boss standing before him and the unseen terror of the people who had hired him.
"I can't," Marcus choked out, his American accent slurring with panic. "If I say his name, he’ll kill my family anyway. You don't understand how deep this goes, Dominic. It’s not just a rival family. It’s inside the house."
Dominic’s pale eyes narrowed sharply. The thick dark hair on his head shifted as he tilted his jaw. "What do you mean, inside the house?"
Marcus looked up, a manic, desperate, hollow laugh escaping his lips. "You think the cake was the only part of the plan? You think they would rely entirely on me?"
The chilling words hung in the bright, cinematic air of the ballroom. Dominic’s expression remained terrifyingly neutral, but his brilliant, strategic mind raced, processing the tactical nightmare unfolding around him.
"The poison... the poison was just a quiet way to do it," Marcus wheezed, his eyes darting frantically around the locked room. "If the boy died of a sudden heart attack, there would be no lockdown. No guns drawn. We could walk right out the front door in the confusion."
"But he didn't eat it," Dominic stated, his powerful presence anchoring the room. "The plan failed."
Marcus let out another choked, desperate laugh. "Did it? Look around you, Dominic. You locked the doors. You put all your loyal men in one room to protect the guests. You isolated yourself from the rest of the estate."
Dominic’s blood ran cold. The realization struck him with the force of a physical blow. Marcus was right. By sealing the ballroom and pulling his inner circle inward to manage the poisoning threat, he had left the rest of the massive mansion largely undefended. He had effectively trapped himself, his son, and his most loyal personnel in a gilded, brightly lit cage.
"Secure him. Gag him. If he makes a sound, break his jaw," Dominic ordered abruptly, turning his back on the traitor.
The guards immediately complied, dragging Marcus to the far corner of the room.
Dominic turned back to the center of the ballroom. He looked at Ethan, who was standing bravely by the mahogany table, trying desperately not to show his fear. He looked at Dr. Harris, who was already packing his medical kit with rapid, urgent movements. Finally, Dominic looked at Elena and Lily.
Elena was holding her daughter incredibly tight, her soft brown hair falling over her terrified face. She was a hardworking, loyal housekeeper, completely unequipped for the violent war that had just erupted in her workplace.
"Elena," Dominic said, his commanding presence softening just enough to reach through her terror. "Get behind the main dining table. Keep Ethan and Lily with you. Do not move from that spot, no matter what you hear."
"Mr. Moretti, what is happening?" Elena asked, her voice trembling violently. "Are there more of them?"
"I am going to ensure that nobody in this room gets hurt," Dominic promised, placing a reassuring, heavily tattooed hand on her shoulder. He looked down at the tiny girl in the yellow dress. "Lily. Keep your mother and Ethan safe for me."
Lily nodded solemnly. "Okay, Mr. Dominic."
As Elena rushed the children behind the massive oak table, Dominic turned to his remaining loyal guards. He drew a sleek, custom-fitted handgun from the holster beneath his white suit jacket. The metal glinted menacingly under the chandeliers.
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Suddenly, the heavy, luxurious silence of the ballroom was shattered. The grand crystal chandeliers overhead flickered wildly for three seconds before plunging the entire room into absolute darkness.
Screams erupted from the wealthy guests as the heavy brass deadbolts on the main ballroom doors began to violently rattle. The true mastermind was breaching the doors, and Dominic Moretti stood ready in the dark, prepared to unleash hell to protect his son.
