Chapter 2 - The Wrong Color
The towering security guards stationed by the mahogany doors instantly reacted to the sudden noise. Marcus, a tall, heavily built man in a dark suit, aggressively reached inside his jacket, his hand resting on the grip of his concealed weapon.
"Get the kid out of here," Marcus barked at the maid, stepping forward to enforce the order.
"Stop."
Damian’s voice didn't rise to a shout, but the absolute, lethal authority in his tone caused every man in the room to instantly freeze.
He slowly lowered his hand, moving the white pill away from his mouth. His cinematic, slow eye movement shifted from his security guards to the terrified maid, and finally settled on the little girl in the pink dress. His expression shifted from quiet annoyance to a cold, incredibly dangerous stare.
"Wait," Damian said quietly, his dark eyes piercing through the tension. He took a slow step toward the six-year-old. "What did you say?"
Alina trembled violently, trying to push Sophia behind her black and white apron to shield her from the mafia boss. But Sophia didn't hide. The little girl stepped around her mother’s leg, standing bravely in the warm morning sunlight.
She raised a tiny finger, pointing it directly at the white pill resting in Damian’s heavily tattooed palm.
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"That medicine looks different today," Sophia stated firmly, her innocent voice ringing with absolute certainty.
👉 Damian thought the child was just imagining things, but a closer look at the pill was about to freeze the blood in his veins.
