Chapter 4 - What Lucia Saw
Dominic walked quietly down the dimly lit hallway of the second floor toward the nursery wing.
The estate was silent, save for the soft patter of rain against the high arched windows. Outside the girls’ bedroom door, he paused, taking a slow, steadying breath before pushing the door open silently.
A soft nightlight cast a gentle, warm glow across the room.
On the large plush rug in the center of the floor, Clara sat with her back against the wall. Mia and Valentina were fast asleep on a pile of cushions beside her, while Lucia lay with her head resting on Clara’s lap. Clara was softly stroking the little girl’s dark hair, humming a quiet, gentle lullaby.
When the door creaked, Clara looked up. She didn't move, continuing her soothing strokes so as not to wake the child.
Dominic stepped inside, his heavy boots making no sound on the thick carpet. He knelt beside the rug, looking down at Lucia’s small, peaceful face.
“She finally fell asleep twenty minutes ago,” Clara whispered softly. “She was terrified you were going to send me away.”
Dominic looked at Clara, seeing the gentle tenderness in her eyes as she looked at his daughter. “Why does she trust you?”
“Because I don't demand anything from her,” Clara replied quietly. “When people suffer trauma, everyone around them wants them to 'get better' on a schedule. They ask questions, they force them to react. I just let them be.”
Dominic reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he gently brushed a strand of dark hair away from Lucia’s forehead.
“Fourteen months ago,” Dominic whispered, his voice thick with raw emotion, “I was holding her mother’s hand in a cold emergency room while the doctors told me her heart had stopped. I promised Isabella I would protect our girls. And every day since then, I feel like I’m failing her.”
Clara looked at him, seeing for the first time the shattered, grieving father behind the terrifying reputation of Dominic Russo.
“You’re not failing them, Mr. Russo,” Clara said gently. “But you cannot fix this with guns or money. They don't need a Don. They need their father.”
Suddenly, Lucia shifted in her sleep, letting out a small, gasping cry. Her eyes snapped open, wide and filled with sudden panic.
When her eyes landed on Dominic sitting beside her, she didn't shrink back this time. Instead, her small hands reached out, clutching the sleeve of his shirt.
“Lucia...” Dominic whispered softly. “Daddy’s here, baby. I’m right here.”
Lucia stared into his eyes, her breathing rapid and shallow. Slowly, her small lips parted once more.
“The phone...” Lucia whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of the rain outside.
May you like
Dominic froze. “What phone, Lucia?”
“The man on the phone,” Lucia whimpered, tears spilling down her cheeks once more. “Before the cars came... Mommy’s phone said 'Daddy'. The man said... 'Daddy said go'.”
