Chapter 10 - Rinaldi Makes a Mistake
Rinaldi’s first move came that night.
It was not elegant.
That disappointed Dominic.
At 11:43 p.m., a black SUV stopped near the lower service gate. Two men stepped out wearing delivery uniforms from a company the estate had not used in five years. They carried no packages. One checked the camera angle. The other cut toward the wall where old ivy covered the eastern blind spot.
They did not know Dominic had removed the blind spot eight hours earlier.
Enzo watched from the security room with three guards and a cup of coffee going cold in his hand.
“Amateurs,” he muttered.
Dominic stood behind him.
“Not amateurs. Desperate.”
The men reached the wall.
Floodlights came on.
Both froze.
Dominic’s voice sounded through the outdoor speakers, calm as evening prayer.
“Gentlemen, the gate is the polite option.”
One man ran.
He made it six steps before two guards intercepted him.
The other raised his hands immediately.
Smart man.
Dominic did not go outside. He had no interest in theatrics that could become evidence. Instead, Enzo handled the trespassers while Dominic watched the monitors.
The smart one talked first.
Rinaldi had sent them to remove “personal property” from the lower stable. They had been told the house manager approved it. They had been told Dominic was away. They had been told no one would interfere.
They had not been told about Mia.
That mattered.
Because when Enzo asked why they used the carriage house path, the man said, “Whitfield said the woman upstairs wouldn’t look. She had a kid.”
Dominic turned away from the monitor.
His self-control was legendary because it had been built from necessity, not peace. But there were moments when even legends had edges.
He went to the carriage house instead of the holding room.
A light was still on.
Sofia sat at the table with a blanket around her shoulders, writing names on a sheet of paper. Mia slept nearby on a pile of cushions, one arm wrapped around a stuffed rabbit someone had brought from the main house.
Sofia looked up.
“They came?”
“Yes.”
Her pen trembled.
“I knew they would.”
“They didn’t get close.”
She gave a small nod, but her face had gone pale again.
Dominic sat across from her.
“What are you writing?”
“Everyone I remember seeing. Dates if I know them. Cars. Shoes. Voices.”
“You should be resting.”
“I rested while people like him used my fear.”
Dominic studied her.
“You don’t have to prove anything tonight.”
“Yes,” she said. “I do.”
“Why?”
“Because tomorrow I might get scared again.”
He had no answer for that.
So he stayed.
For an hour, Sofia wrote. Dominic asked only when she paused too long or rubbed her temple. He brought water. He corrected one date from security logs. He watched her memory turn into evidence.
At 1:06 a.m., Mia woke.
She blinked at them sleepily.
“Is the bad man here?”
“No,” Sofia said quickly.
Dominic said, “He tried.”
Sofia shot him a look.
Dominic shrugged faintly.
“Mia dislikes lies.”
Mia sat up.
“Did you use your serious face?”
“Yes.”
“Did it work?”
“Mostly.”
She considered this, then lay back down.
“Good. Mama needs sleep.”
Within seconds, she was out again.
Sofia covered her mouth to stop a laugh from becoming a cough.
Dominic’s chest warmed unexpectedly.
Then his phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
He answered without speaking.
A man’s voice said, “You should have left this alone.”
Dominic looked at Sofia.
Her eyes widened.
He put the call on speaker.
The voice continued, “That maid and her kid aren’t worth a war.”
Dominic’s face became very still.
Sofia whispered, “Rinaldi.”
Dominic spoke at last.
“You made one mistake.”
Rinaldi laughed softly.
“Only one?”
“You said they weren’t worth a war.”
Dominic stood, phone in hand, looking out the small window toward the mansion that had never felt like home until someone vulnerable needed it to be one.
“They are the reason you’re going to lose one.”
He ended the call.
Sofia stared at him.
“Dominic…”
This time, she used his name without realizing it.
He heard it.
So did she.
Neither mentioned it.
Outside, the estate lights burned against the dark.
May you like
And for the first time in years, Dominic Castellano felt something stronger than anger guiding him.
Purpose.
