Chapter 4 - The Gates of the Estate
-4-
The iron gates of the Rossi family estate loomed out of the swirling morning fog like the entrance to a medieval fortress. Situated on a private, heavily wooded bluff overlooking the Hudson River, the sprawling limestone mansion had been built during New York’s Gilded Age—a monument to old money, ironclad secrets, and generational wealth that refused to fade with time.
As Nico’s black Bentley glided effortlessly past the security checkpoint, the heavy wrought-iron barriers swung open with a slow, automated hiss. In the backseat beside me, I stared out the tinted window at the immaculate gardens, the sprawling cobblestone courtyards, and the towering Corinthian columns flanking the front entrance.
Twenty-four hours ago, I was sweeping up broken lamp glass from the floor of my cramped two-bedroom apartment, wondering how I was going to pay rent after Liam emptied our joint checking account to fund a weekend trip with my sister. Now, I was crossing the threshold of a multi-million-dollar estate as the personal guest of the most feared corporate tactician in Manhattan.
The car glided to a smooth halt beneath the grand portico. Before my door could even swing open, a sharply dressed butler in a bespoke three-piece suit had materialized on the pavement, pulling the handle with practiced precision.
“Welcome home, Mr. Rossi,” the elderly butler murmured, his posture rigid and formal, though his sharp, observant eyes flicked over to me with a fraction of undisguised curiosity.
“Thank you, James,” Nico replied smoothly as he stepped out onto the cobblestones, extending a hand to help me out of the car. “Ensure the master east suite is prepared for Miss Luna. Have her luggage brought up immediately.”
“Right away, sir,” James replied, though a microscopic eyebrow twitch betrayed his shock at hearing that a young woman was being installed in the estate's most exclusive private wing—a wing that hadn't been occupied by anyone other than Nico himself since his bitter divorce from Valentina five years ago.
We walked up the wide stone steps and entered the cavernous grand foyer. Sunlight streamed down from a magnificent stained-glass dome high above, illuminating polished marble floors and towering oil portraits of past Rossi patriarchs staring down with stern, unblinking authority.
“It’s... overwhelming,” I admitted quietly, my footsteps echoing softly against the marble as I looked around.
“It’s just stone and mortar,” Nico dismissed lightly, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he handed it to a waiting footman. “A house only becomes a home because of the people inside it. And for a long time, this place felt more like a mausoleum than a home.”
He turned to face me, his expression softening just a fraction. “You don’t have to feel like a prisoner here, Luna. Treat this estate as your own. My study is down the hall, the library is fully stocked, and if anyone from my ex-wife’s camp or my disgraced son’s office calls or shows up at the gate, James has strict orders to feed them to the guard dogs.”
A genuine laugh finally escaped my lips, breaking the heavy tension that had gripped my chest since the night before. “Guard dogs? Do you actually have guard dogs?”
“Dobermans,” Nico replied with a straight face, though a twinkle of humor danced in his dark eyes. “Very well-trained. They have a particular distaste for uninvited guests carrying designer handbags and fake apologies.”
Before I could reply, the heavy oak doors of the foyer flew open with a violent crash.
Footsteps echoed sharply across the marble floor, and a second later, Valentina Rossi marched into the foyer, her face twisted into an mask of absolute fury. She wasn't alone. Two corporate security guards trailed closely behind her, looking deeply uncomfortable as they realized they had crossed into Nico’s private domain without permission.
“Nico!” Valentina’s voice shrieked, bouncing off the vaulted ceilings. “Have you completely lost your mind? Letting this opportunistic little gold-digger into our home? Do you have any idea what this is doing to the family’s stock value? The board is holding an emergency conference call in twenty minutes!”
Nico didn't even blink. He slowly turned around, placing himself deliberately between Valentina and me, his posture shifting instantly into an immovable wall of ice.
“Val,” Nico’s voice was dangerously quiet, carrying a lethal weight that made even his ex-wife freeze in her tracks. “You are standing in my home. Without an invitation. Accompanied by men who are about to lose their jobs for trespassing on private property.”
Valentina glared past Nico’s shoulder, her eyes locking onto mine with enough venom to kill a plant. “You think you’ve won, don't you, little girl?” she spat, her voice shaking with rage. “You think because Nico is using you to spite me that you actually matter? You’re a placeholder. A temporary pawn in a family war you don't even understand. The moment he gets bored of you, he’ll discard you just like the trash you are.”
I didn't cower. I didn't step back. Remembering the tears I had cried on my apartment floor just hours ago, I felt a cold, hard resolve crystallize in my chest. I stepped out from behind Nico’s shoulder, meeting Valentina’s furious gaze with a calm, unblinking smile.
“Perhaps you should worry less about me, Mrs. Rossi,” I said softly, my voice carrying clearly across the grand foyer. “And worry more about the fact that your beloved son is currently trying to figure out how to pay for a cheap motel room now that his father has cut off his allowance and your debt is sitting on the chopping block.”
Valentina’s face turned the color of ash. She raised her hand as if she meant to cross the room and slap me across the face.
May you like
Nico’s hand shot out with terrifying speed, catching Valentina’s wrist mid-air in a grip of iron.
“Touch her,” Nico whispered, his eyes blacker than an abyss, “and I will personally strip you of every last share, every last trust fund, and every last title you hold before the sun sets today. Get out of my house.”
