Chapter 5 - The Snake at the Gates
By the following week, the snow had begun to melt, leaving wet gray slush along the manicured driveways of the Russo estate.
Victor recovered with astonishing speed. Within five days, he was back on his feet, walking through the hallways in his tailored suits, though his face remained paler than usual.
Chloe’s position in the house had completely transformed. She was no longer just the maid who cleaned the east wing. She was the woman who sat by Victor’s bedside every night while he recovered, reading to him from his collection of history books while he feigned annoyance at her reading voice.
However, peace in the Russo empire was short-lived.
At noon on Thursday, a convoy of three sleek black sedans rolled past the front iron gates.
Leo Donati had arrived.
The seventy-year-old mafia patriarch stepped out of his vehicle wearing a heavy mink coat, accompanied by four armed bodyguards and his twenty-two-year-old daughter, Isabella Donati. Isabella was stunning, dressed in a tight red velvet dress, her platinum blonde hair styled in high-society waves, her lips painted a blood-red pout.
In the grand drawing room, Victor sat behind his desk, flanked by Marco and six heavily armed Russo guards. His chest was tightly bandaged under his dark three-piece suit.
Chloe was downstairs in the tea pantry, carefully arranging porcelain cups on a silver tray under Mrs. Gable's anxious supervision.
"Be extremely careful, Chloe," Mrs. Gable warned in a low voice. "Isabella Donati is a venomous snake. She knows Victor refused her marriage proposal, and she’s looking for blood."
"I'll just leave the tea and come straight back," Chloe assured her, picking up the heavy silver tray.
She walked up the grand staircase and approached the drawing room doors. The guard outside nodded and opened the heavy door for her.
Inside, the atmosphere was thick with tension.
"You look surprisingly well for a man who took a bullet to the ribs last week, Victor," Leo Donati said, his raspy voice dripping with fake warmth as he puffed on a thick cigar.
"Your gunmen have terrible aim, Leo," Victor replied smoothly, pouring himself a finger of scotch. "Next time, send professionals."
Isabella Donati laughed, a high, musical sound as she leaned over Victor's desk, exposing her neck. "Oh, Victor. My father was only trying to get your attention. If you had accepted my hand, our families would be united, and no blood would ever be spilled."
"I don't buy peace with wedding rings, Isabella," Victor said coldly.
At that moment, Chloe stepped into the room, her eyes kept low as she walked toward the small side table to set down the silver tea service.
Isabella turned her head, her eyes landing on Chloe. She noticed the small maid immediately—and more importantly, she noticed how Victor’s dark eyes flicked toward Chloe the second she walked through the door.
Isabella’s expression twisted into pure disdain.
"Is this the quality of servants you keep in this drafty museum, Victor?" Isabella sneered, walking over to the tea table. She looked down at Chloe with disgust. "Look at her uniform. It's wrinkled."
"The uniform is clean, Miss Donati," Chloe said quietly, pouring hot tea into a porcelain cup.
"Did I give you permission to speak to me, girl?" Isabella snapped.
Before anyone could react, Isabella intentionally reached out her hand and struck the teapot, sending boiling hot tea splashing across Chloe's chest and hands.
Chloe gasped in pain, stepping back as the scalding liquid burned through her fabric, reddening her skin instantly. The porcelain cup shattered on the marble floor.
In a split second, the air in the room died.
Click.
The distinct, chilling sound of a hammer being pulled back on a heavy firearm echoed through the room.
Leo Donati’s bodyguards reached for their weapons, but they were instantly outmatched. Six Russo guards pulled their submachine guns, pointing them directly at Leo and Isabella's heads.
Victor stood behind his desk.
In his right hand, he held a sleek Sig Sauer, the barrel pointed dead-center at Isabella Donati’s forehead. His dark eyes were devoid of any human emotion—they were black, pitiless, and murderous.
"Victor!" Leo Donati yelled, standing up in alarm. "Are you insane?! You're pointing a gun at my daughter over a servant?!"
"Step away from her, Isabella," Victor said, his voice so quiet, so deadly, that even the hardened mobsters in the room felt a shiver run down their spines.
Isabella froze, her face draining of all color as she looked down the black barrel of Victor's gun. "Victor... she’s just a maid—"
"If a single drop of her skin blisters," Victor said softly, "I will put a bullet through your eyes before your father can draw his breath."
Chloe looked up through her tears of pain, her hand clutching her burned wrist. "Victor... please. Don't."
Victor didn't break eye contact with Isabella. "Marco. Take Miss Bennett to the clinic room and have the doctor apply cold dressing immediately."
"Yes, Boss," Marco said, rushing over to gently guide Chloe out of the room.
Once Chloe was safely outside, Victor slowly lowered his gun, but he did not put it away. He looked at Leo Donati with cold contempt.
"The sit-down is over," Victor stated. "Get out of my house. If any Donati steps foot on my land again, it will be an act of war."
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Leo Donati’s jaw worked furiously. He grabbed his shaking daughter by the arm and pulled her toward the door. "You're risking your entire empire for a common maid, Russo! You've lost your mind!"
"I haven't lost my mind, Leo," Victor replied, setting his gun on the desk. "I've just found something worth burning you down for."
