Chapter 4 - The Golden Cage
The transition from the damp, cramped basement staff room to the sprawling east wing of the Moretti mansion felt like moving into a royal palace. Within twenty-four hours, our meager belongings were replaced with brand-new clothes, fine furniture, and endless rows of books and toys. Mama tried to protest, insisting she was just a maid, but Alejandro Moretti was a man accustomed to having his decisions treated as absolute law.
“You earned this, Elena,” he had told her firmly during breakfast on our third day. “Your daughter saved my life. In my world, loyalty and debts are repaid tenfold. From now on, your only job is to ensure Emma is safe, happy, and well-educated.”
Life in the mansion changed dramatically. The guards, once cold and intimidating, now nodded respectfully whenever I walked past holding my stuffed rabbit. Yet, beneath the luxury and the gold-plated security, I was still just a four-year-old child trying to understand why big men in suits carried guns and why people whispered about us in the hallways.
Alejandro made it a point to visit us every evening. Despite his terrifying reputation across the criminal underworld, with me, he was endlessly patient. He would sit in a velvet armchair, nursing a cup of black coffee while I showed him my drawings or made him play tea party with plastic cups.
One evening, about a month after the poisoning incident, Alejandro sat silently as I colored a picture of a blue rabbit.
“Emma,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that made me stop coloring. “Do you know why Marcus tried to kill me?”
I shook my head, my pigtails bouncing. “Because he was mean.”
“He was greedy,” Alejandro corrected gently. “In my position, power attracts enemies like wolves to a wounded deer. Marcus thought he could take my place by cutting off my air supply. He thought he was clever.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you know what happens to wolves who try to bite the alpha, Emma?”
“They get put in time-out?” I guessed innocently.
A faint, tired smile touched Alejandro’s lips. “Something like that, yes. But their pack mates don't forget. And neither do I.”
The door to the parlor suddenly swung open, interrupting our conversation. A tall, sharply dressed man with silver-streaked hair and cold blue eyes strode into the room. It was Viktor Vance, Alejandro’s oldest business partner and head of the international shipping division.
Viktor stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me sitting on the rug next to the feared mafia boss. A strange, unreadable flash crossed his eyes before he quickly masked it with a polite, oily smile.
“Alejandro,” Viktor said smoothly, stepping further into the room. “I didn't realize you were entertaining guests. Especially such... young ones.”
Alejandro stood up slowly, his posture instantly shifting from the warm protector to the ruthless syndicate leader. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
“Viktor,” Alejandro said coldly. “You know better than to enter my private quarters without an invitation. And you certainly know better than to question who I allow in my presence.”
Viktor’s smile didn't reach his eyes. He glanced down at me, then back at Alejandro, a subtle warning hidden beneath his words. “Of course, Boss. I only came to discuss the European shipping manifests. But I must say... keeping a maid’s child so close to your heart? People are starting to talk. They might think you’re getting soft.”
Alejandro took a slow step toward Viktor, his dark eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “Let them talk, Viktor. Let them wonder. Because the last person who thought I was soft is currently wishing he was still breathing the air in my basement.”
May you like
Viktor’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. He bowed his head slightly, though there was no respect in the gesture. “As you say, Alejandro. I’ll wait for you in the study.”
As Viktor turned and walked out, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind him, Alejandro’s gaze lingered on the empty doorway. His expression was darker than I had ever seen it.
