That was the first thing Alessandro Moretti noticed when he stepped into the pressing room and found a three-year-old girl standing on a plastic chair, both tiny hands wrapped around the handle of a steaming iron, desperately trying to flatten the sleeve of his white dress shirt.

Alessandro froze. The words echoed in his mind like a chilling final piece of a complex puzzle.

He already knew Dante was the architect behind the poisoning, but hearing it confirmed by the silent, observant eyes of a three-year-old child who noticed everything while everyone else looked away brought a fierce, protective fire to his chest.

"You saw him, Emma?" Alessandro asked softly, keeping his voice gentle.

The little girl nodded slowly against his shoulder, her tiny arms wrapping hesitantly around his neck. "He told Mama it was medicine to make her work better. But Mama cried after she drank it every time."

Alessandro closed his eyes for a second, letting the wave of cold fury wash over him and settle into absolute, razor-sharp focus. Dante hadn't just betrayed the family business; he had preyed on a defenseless woman and terrorized a child right under Alessandro's roof.

"You and your mommy are never going to be scared again," Alessandro promised, lifting her up easily into his arms. "Let's go back to her."

He carried Emma back to the second-floor guest suite. Sophia was sitting up against the plush pillows, looking pale and frightened, but Dr. Bianchi was standing beside her, finishing up an intravenous drip.

"She's stable, Alessandro," Dr. Bianchi said, turning around as the door opened. "Her system is reacting well to the saline flush, but she needs absolute rest. The toxin levels in her blood confirm what we suspected—slow, chronic administration over several weeks."

"It stops tonight, Doctor," Alessandro said, gently placing Emma down on the bed next to her mother.

Sophia clutched her daughter tightly, looking up at Alessandro with a mixture of awe and sheer terror. "Mr. Moretti... please, don't punish her. I’m the one who didn't work fast enough. We'll pack our things, we'll leave Chicago—"

"You aren't going anywhere, Sophia," Alessandro interrupted gently, his tone leaving no room for argument. "This is your home. And the man who poisoned you is currently locked in the lower holding cells."

Sophia’s breath caught. "Dante..."

"He won't ever hurt you again," Alessandro said firmly. "I have guards stationed outside this door. Lock it from the inside, and do not open it for anyone except myself or Dr. Bianchi."