Chapter 2

The next day, as I walked past the kitchen, a sharp bark of laughter stopped me in my tracks.

"Don't bother slicing that stale baguette. That feral little mutt has sharp teeth—he can chew through it just fine."

It was Maria, the estate's Head Maid. Word was she was a holdover from Lorenzo's mother's time, used to throwing her weight around.

A younger maid giggled. "This seafood soup went sour yesterday. Are we really giving it to him? What if it kills him?"

"Good riddance!" Maria scoffed. "The Boss doesn't even care about him. If the kid wasn't so damn stubborn, he would've died in that assassination three years ago right alongside his short-lived mother."

"True." The younger maid clicked her tongue. "What about that new woman upstairs? I heard she keeps leaving food at the nursery door."

"Tch. She's just a cheap whore sold by her own father as collateral," Maria sneered. "The Boss didn't even touch her on their wedding night. Left her rotting here for three days. Does she really think she's the Lady of the house? Trying to climb the ranks by sucking up to that little psycho—she's dreaming."

Outside the door, my expression went dead.

I thought they were just neglecting the boy. I never imagined that in the blind spots of Lorenzo's empire, these highly paid servants were actively abusing a five-year-old child.

I lifted my leg and kicked the door.

Bang.

Maria and the two maids jumped, whipping around.

I stepped into the kitchen, my eyes locking onto the tray on the counter.

A piece of rock-hard, day-old bread.

A bowl of seafood soup reeking of rot.

Not even a clean spoon.

"M-Ma'am." The young maid paled, taking a quick step back.

Maria only panicked for a second before her face smoothed into a mask of false respect.

"Why did you come down yourself, Ma'am? This is Master Dante's lunch. I was just about to bring it up."

Ignoring her tone, I walked straight to the counter and picked up the bowl of rancid soup.

"This is his lunch?"

"Yes." Maria lifted her chin. "Master Dante has odd tastes. He likes this kind of food. You just got here, Ma'am, you don't know the rules of the estate. It's best if you don't interfere—"

Splash.

I flicked my wrist.

The entire bowl of freezing, putrid soup hit Maria squarely in the face.

"Ah!" Maria shrieked, stumbling back. "Are you crazy?!"

Wiping the slime from her eyes, her false respect vanished. "Who the hell do you think you are! You're nothing but a cheap pawn used to pay off a debt, and you dare throw soup at me?!"

She raised her thick arm, aiming a vicious slap right at my face.

As a former ER doctor who had pulled back-to-back shifts and survived my fair share of violent patients, I knew exactly how a human body folded.

The moment her hand came down, I seized her wrist, pivoted, and twisted her arm sharply behind her back.

"Ahhhhh!"

Maria's massive frame collapsed, hitting the floor with a heavy thud as she was forced to her knees.

The other two maids shrieked and slumped against the cabinets in terror.

I stared down at Maria, keeping the pressure on her joint.

"I don't care what the rules of this estate used to be."

"And I don't care what you think my status is."

"But let me make this very clear."

"As long as I am breathing in this house, he is the only heir here."

I leaned in closer. "I am a surgeon. I know a hundred ways to sever your Achilles and flexor tendons and make the coroner rule it an accidental fall."

"Do you understand me?"

Tears and snot smeared across Maria's face. "I... I understand! Ma'am! I understand!"

I sneered and released her. "Ten minutes."

"You have ten minutes to prepare a nutritionally balanced lunch for a child. One minute late, and I'll use your fingers to make the next batch of soup."

"Yes! Yes! Right away!"

The chef and the maids scrambled up, stumbling over themselves to get to the fridge.

I shot a cold glance at Maria, who was still trembling on the floor, then turned and walked out.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a small figure at the turn of the spiral staircase.

Dante.

He must have sneaked downstairs for food and seen the whole thing.

His little hands were gripping his shirt tightly, his eyes wide and rimmed with red.

Meanwhile.

On the top floor of another Casillas property, inside a lightproof study.

A massive curved monitor displayed a grid of surveillance feeds from every corner of the manor. On the center screen, the kitchen confrontation played back in crystal clarity.

Lorenzo Casillas sat in a leather chair, his long legs lazily crossed.

"A surgeon?"

It seemed his greedy father-in-law had delivered quite the unexpected treasure.

Lorenzo crushed his cigar into a crystal ashtray and stood up. "Notify the men."

"Get the car ready. It's time I meet my new bride."

Chapter 2

The next day, as I walked past the kitchen, a sharp bark of laughter stopped me in my tracks.

"Don't bother slicing that stale baguette. That feral little mutt has sharp teeth—he can chew through it just fine."

It was Maria, the estate's Head Maid. Word was she was a holdover from Lorenzo's mother's time, used to throwing her weight around.

A younger maid giggled. "This seafood soup went sour yesterday. Are we really giving it to him? What if it kills him?"

"True." The younger maid clicked her tongue. "What about that new woman upstairs? I heard she keeps leaving food at the nursery door."

Outside the door, my expression went dead.

I thought they were just neglecting the boy. I never imagined that in the blind spots of Lorenzo's empire, these highly paid servants were actively abusing a five-year-old child.

I lifted my leg and kicked the door.

Bang.

Maria and the two maids jumped, whipping around.

I stepped into the kitchen, my eyes locking onto the tray on the counter.

A piece of rock-hard, day-old bread.

A bowl of seafood soup reeking of rot.

Not even a clean spoon.

"M-Ma'am." The young maid paled, taking a quick step back.

Maria only panicked for a second before her face smoothed into a mask of false respect.

"Why did you come down yourself, Ma'am? This is Master Dante's lunch. I was just about to bring it up."

Ignoring her tone, I walked straight to the counter and picked up the bowl of rancid soup.

"This is his lunch?"

"Yes." Maria lifted her chin. "Master Dante has odd tastes. He likes this kind of food. You just got here, Ma'am, you don't know the rules of the estate. It's best if you don't interfere—"

Splash.

I flicked my wrist.

The entire bowl of freezing, putrid soup hit Maria squarely in the face.

"Ah!" Maria shrieked, stumbling back. "Are you crazy?!"

Wiping the slime from her eyes, her false respect vanished. "Who the hell do you think you are! You're nothing but a cheap pawn used to pay off a debt, and you dare throw soup at me?!"

She raised her thick arm, aiming a vicious slap right at my face.

As a former ER doctor who had pulled back-to-back shifts and survived my fair share of violent patients, I knew exactly how a human body folded.

The moment her hand came down, I seized her wrist, pivoted, and twisted her arm sharply behind her back.

"Ahhhhh!"

Maria's massive frame collapsed, hitting the floor with a heavy thud as she was forced to her knees.

The other two maids shrieked and slumped against the cabinets in terror.

I stared down at Maria, keeping the pressure on her joint.

"I don't care what the rules of this estate used to be."

"And I don't care what you think my status is."

"But let me make this very clear."

"As long as I am breathing in this house, he is the only heir here."

I leaned in closer. "I am a surgeon. I know a hundred ways to sever your Achilles and flexor tendons and make the coroner rule it an accidental fall."

"Do you understand me?"

Tears and snot smeared across Maria's face. "I... I understand! Ma'am! I understand!"

I sneered and released her. "Ten minutes."

"You have ten minutes to prepare a nutritionally balanced lunch for a child. One minute late, and I'll use your fingers to make the next batch of soup."

"Yes! Yes! Right away!"

The chef and the maids scrambled up, stumbling over themselves to get to the fridge.

I shot a cold glance at Maria, who was still trembling on the floor, then turned and walked out.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a small figure at the turn of the spiral staircase.

Dante.

He must have sneaked downstairs for food and seen the whole thing.

His little hands were gripping his shirt tightly, his eyes wide and rimmed with red.

Meanwhile.

On the top floor of another Casillas property, inside a lightproof study.

A massive curved monitor displayed a grid of surveillance feeds from every corner of the manor. On the center screen, the kitchen confrontation played back in crystal clarity.

Lorenzo Casillas sat in a leather chair, his long legs lazily crossed.

"A surgeon?"

It seemed his greedy father-in-law had delivered quite the unexpected treasure.

Lorenzo crushed his cigar into a crystal ashtray and stood up. "Notify the men."

"Get the car ready. It's time I meet my new bride."