Chapter 3 - The Shadow on the Terrace
The party was dissolved in minutes. The fleet of black SUVs that lined the driveway emptied the estate of its wealthy guests, leaving behind only the whispered rumors of what had just happened. Damian carried Lily inside himself, his large, powerful hands holding her gently against his charcoal suit. He didn't care about the mud on her shoes. He didn't care about the ruined decorations outside.
Once Lily was safely tucked away in her massive pastel bedroom, reading a book with her terrified nanny, Damian walked down into the subterranean levels of the estate.
His private office was a fortress of mahogany and bulletproof glass. Waiting for him was Leo, his underboss and oldest friend. Leo looked nervous, twisting a silver ring on his finger.
"She's out of control, Damian," Leo said, pouring a heavy glass of bourbon. "Vivienne has been whispering to the capos all week. She’s telling them that you’ve gone soft. That adopting Lily was a mistake, and that the Russo empire belongs to the bloodline."
Damian took the glass but didn't drink. "Vivienne cares about one thing: the trust fund my father left behind. She thinks because she was married to my brother before he died, she holds the keys to the kingdom."
"She threatened you with the 'true heir,'" Leo noted, his brow furrowing. "Is she bluffing? Your brother died childless. We all know that."
Damian set the glass down. He walked over to a heavy iron safe embedded in the wall behind his desk. He spun the dial, the heavy metallic clicks echoing in the quiet room. He pulled open the thick steel door and reached inside. He pulled out a thick, leather-bound ledger. But as he opened it, his jaw tightened.
"She isn't bluffing about having a card to play," Damian said, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "But she made a mistake today."
Leo stepped forward. "What mistake?"
Damian turned the ledger around. Several pages from the back—the pages detailing the family’s offshore accounts and the original bloodline mandates—had been expertly razor-bladed out.
"She thinks she stole the original will," Damian said quietly. "She doesn't realize I swapped it three years ago. But if she's making a move this bold in broad daylight, it means she's finally brought him into the country."
Leo's face went pale. "Brought who?"
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"The boy," Damian replied. "The one she’s been hiding in Europe."
Before Leo could ask another question, Damian’s secure cell phone buzzed on the desk. It was an encrypted text message from an unknown number. It contained a single photograph: Lily, sleeping in her bed, taken from the window just five minutes ago. The text below it read: She looks just like her father.
