Chapter 6 - THE BLUE STAR ON GOLD
Lily tapped her own wrist with her tiny index finger, her wide brown eyes looking up at the broad, intimidating man in the black suit.
"Gold," Lily answered innocently, her voice echoing in the quiet hallway. "Big gold watch. And when he turned his hand... it had a blue star on the back. Just like Ethan’s cake."
Dominic went completely, terrifyingly still.
The "blue star" was not a commercial watch logo. It was a custom, hand-engraved emblem—a dark blue sapphire star set into twenty-four-karat gold—awarded personally by Dominic to his five most senior, most trusted captains on the tenth anniversary of the Moretti family's consolidation of Chicago.
Only five men in the world possessed that watch.
Five men who had complete, unrestricted clearance to every wing of the estate, including the private kitchen cold rooms.
Dominic slowly turned his head to look across the grand ballroom toward the adjoining service corridor where eight of his primary lieutenants, security chiefs, and staff managers were currently standing guard, assisting with the lockdown of the estate.
The perimeter security detail was quietly checking the credentials and wristbands of all house staff and remaining guards.
Dominic’s dark eyes began to slowly scan the wrists of the men standing in that corridor.
Near the far end of the service archway, standing beside a tall floral arrangement, was Vincent Rossi—Dominic’s long-time logistics chief and childhood friend. Vincent wore an expensive dark suit, his face calm, watching the security guards clear the remaining staff.
As Dominic’s cold, analytical gaze drifted across the room toward him, Vincent subtly shifted his posture.
Without turning his head, Vincent casually slid his left hand into his suit jacket pocket, pulling his dark shirt sleeve down three inches to cover his left wrist—a quick, instinctive micro-movement meant to hide whatever was strapped to his arm.
Dominic caught the movement instantly.
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The cold shock that had consumed Dominic minutes ago vanished entirely, replaced by a dark, monstrous, lethal suspicion that burned like pure fire in his chest. He didn't shout. He didn't draw his weapon. He simply watched as Vincent turned on his heel and quietly disappeared into the shadows of the service hallway.
Dominic looked down at three-year-old Lily, offering her a single, quiet nod of profound gratitude, before stepping toward the dark corridor to hunt down the traitor inside his home.
