Chapter 4 - The Kitchen Secrets
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The estate kitchen was a sprawling expanse of stainless steel and white marble. Elena stood over a massive six-burner stove, her hands moving with frantic precision as she prepared the evening meal. Her heart had been hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs for the past four hours.
She couldn't stop thinking about the study. She couldn't stop thinking about the cold, dead look in Dante Moretti’s eyes when her daughter spoke.
"Mama, look."
Elena spun around. Sophia was sitting under the heavy butcher-block island, using a green crayon to color the bent ear of her stuffed cat.
"Sophia, please, keep your voice down," Elena whispered harshly, wiping her hands on her apron. She dropped to her knees, pulling the child into a fierce, trembling hug. "You cannot go upstairs ever again. Do you understand me? It is dangerous."
"The lady was in the dark room," Sophia stated simply, oblivious to her mother's terror. "She put a shiny box in her purse."
The heavy swinging doors of the kitchen pushed open.
Elena scrambled to her feet, instinctively shoving Sophia behind her legs.
Dante Moretti stepped into the kitchen. He did not look at the simmering pots or the chopped vegetables. He looked directly at the cook.
"Mr. Moretti," Elena breathed, her voice shaking. "Dinner will be served in ten minutes. I apologize for the delay—"
"The timing is fine, Elena," Dante interrupted softly. He walked slowly across the kitchen, stopping just a few feet away. He towered over her, his presence suffocating the large room.
He crouched down, ignoring his tailored trousers, until he was at eye level with Sophia, who peeked out from behind her mother's apron.
Dante reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, foil-wrapped chocolate. He held it out on his large, scarred palm.
"For being observant," Dante murmured.
Sophia took the chocolate without hesitation. "Thank you, Uncle Dante."
Dante stood back up, locking eyes with Elena. The terror in her face was palpable.
"Elena," Dante said, his voice dropping to a register meant only for her. "Starting tomorrow, I am posting two of my personal guards at the entrance to your living quarters. You and Sophia will not leave this wing of the house without them."
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Elena swallowed hard, tears pricking her eyes. "Are we prisoners, sir?"
"No," Dante replied, his dark eyes fierce and protective. "You are witnesses. And in my world, witnesses require a heavily armed shield. Keep her close."
