Chapter 3 - The Golden Cage
The Moretti estate was not a home; it was a fortress disguised as a palace. Nestled behind twenty-foot wrought-iron gates on the stormy cliffs of Long Island, the compound boasted armed guards pacing every perimeter, high-tech security cameras, and razor-sharp hedges. Inside, vaulted ceilings and gleaming chandeliers spoke of unimaginable wealth, yet the massive corridors were dead silent.
I was escorted to a luxurious guest suite down the hall from Leo's room. A closet full of high-end, comfortable clothing had already been delivered in my exact size—proof of just how terrifyingly thorough Dante’s network was. But I couldn't sleep. The memory of the luxury hotel ballroom still echoed in my mind.
The next morning, the real challenge began.
When I entered Leo’s playroom, the scene was heartbreaking. The room was massive, filled with expensive educational toys, imported puzzles, and miniature sports gear, yet everything looked completely untouched. Leo sat curled up in the corner behind a heavy mahogany bookshelf, staring intently at the floorboards, spinning a single silver coin over and over again.
At the doorway stood a tall, elegant woman in an immaculate cream Chanel suit. Her hair was pulled back into a severe chignon, and her icy blue eyes glared at me with pure disdain. This was Bianca Moretti, Dante’s cousin and the self-appointed manager of the family household.
""So you're the stray waitress Dante dragged in from the gutter,"" Bianca sneered, folding her arms. ""Let me make something clear to you, little girl. You are an employee. Do not get comfortable here. Leo is a Moretti heir; he does not need peasant sympathy. He needs discipline.""
""Discipline won't rewire a neurological difference, Miss Moretti,"" I replied calmly, walking past her into the room.
Bianca gasped at my audacity. ""How dare you speak to me like that! I will have Dante throw you out before dinner!""
""Then let him do it,"" I said without turning around.
I walked over to the corner where Leo sat. I didn't rush toward him. Instead, I sat down on the rug about four feet away, giving him his space. I pulled a small velvet bag of smooth glass marbles from my pocket—something I had packed from my old apartment. I rolled one across the wooden floor.
It made a gentle, musical clatter.
Leo stopped spinning his coin. His eyes shifted toward the blue marble.
I tapped the floor four times. Tap, tap, tap, tap.
Leo’s head tilted. He reached out a hesitant, pale hand and touched the smooth glass. For the first time all morning, he didn't scream. He didn't hide.
From the doorway, Dante had been watching in silence. Bianca turned to him, ready to complain, but Dante held up a single finger, silencing her instantly. His eyes were fixed entirely on his son, who was now rolling the marble back toward me.
""Leave us, Bianca,"" Dante murmured, his voice thick with an emotion he rarely allowed anyone to see.
Bianca glared at me, her knuckles turning white with rage. ""You're making a mistake, Dante. She's nobody. She could be a spy for the Russian syndicate. You know how vulnerable we are right now with the harbor deal pending!""
""I said leave,"" Dante barked, his tone dropping an octave.
Bianca stormed off, her heels clicking angrily on the hardwood. Dante stepped into the room, kicking off his shoes—a gesture so profoundly out of character for a ruthless mob boss that it almost made me laugh. He sat on the floor beside us, watching his son interact with another human being for the first time in months.
""He likes blue,"" I whispered softly. ""And he likes simple, rhythmic sounds. If you stop trying to force him to be someone else, he'll let you into his world.""
Dante looked at me, his gaze softer than before, yet undeniably intense. ""You are dangerous, Sophie Vance.""
May you like
""Why? Because I know how to talk to your son?""
""Because you make me want to lower my guard,"" Dante replied, his voice dangerously close to my ear. ""And in my line of work, lowering your guard gets you killed.""
