Chapter 2 - The Arrival at the FortressBy 6:00 PM that evening, a fleet of three midnight-black armored Maybachs glided through the massive wrought-iron security gates of the Moretti Estate in Westchester.
The estate was a magnificent fifty-acre limestone manor surrounded by manicured gardens, ancient oak trees, high stone walls, and fifty broad-shouldered security operators in dark suits posted along the perimeter.
Dominic carried me out of the vehicle in his arms, wrapping his dark wool coat around my shoulders to shield me from the autumn chill.
Walking beside him was his chief security lieutenant, Marco—a broad-shouldered man with a scar along his cheek who carried my worn teddy bear with comical, reverent care.
When the heavy carved oak front doors were thrown open, I let out a soft gasp of pure wonder.
The grand foyer opened into a sweeping, sunlit hall filled with white marble floors, crystal chandeliers, warm fireplaces, and walls adorned with fine classical paintings.
Standing near the grand staircase was Mrs. Clara—the elderly, warm-hearted head housekeeper—wearing a crisp white apron, flanked by three smiling kitchen staff members holding trays of warm vanilla pastries and fresh milk.
"Welcome home, Little Princess Lily!" Mrs. Clara cheered, her eyes shining with joyful tears as she curtsied gently before me.
Dominic carried me down the central hallway toward the ground-floor wing.
"I had my interior team work on this for the last three hours, Lily," Dominic explained gently, pushing open a set of double mahogany doors.
Inside sat a breathtaking, multi-room ground-floor suite designed specifically for absolute accessibility and luxury.
The suite featured plush white carpets, a king-sized canopy bed adorned with pink silk blankets, low-set mahogany drawing desks stocked with hundreds of professional art supplies, and wide French doors opening directly into a private, sunlit glass conservatory filled with blooming white orchids and colorful butterflies.
Everything was built at a height I could reach easily from my new, state-of-the-art motorized ivory wheelchair resting near the bed.
My hazel eyes widened in disbelief. I looked from the art supplies to the sunlit conservatory, then turned my head to look at Dominic.
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"Is... is all of this for me?" I whispered, my voice trembling.
"Everything in this house belongs to you, princess," Dominic answered softly, setting me gently onto the soft silk mattress, sitting beside me, taking my small hand into his broad palm. "You are a Moretti now. You are my daughter."
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