Chapter 6 - SHADOWS OF MANHATTAN
By mid-week, the dynamic inside the Santoro estate had profoundly shifted.
Under Naomi’s structured regimen, Titan’s behavior had undergone a revolutionary transformation. The constant hypervigilance was fading. He no longer paced the hallways at night; instead, he slept peacefully on a velvet rug at the foot of Naomi’s bed. He learned new directional commands, accepted the presence of estate staff without growling, and developed an endearing habit of carrying his favorite rubber toy wherever he went.
Meanwhile, Maya’s condition showed its first miraculous signs of improvement. The new targeted therapy had reduced the inflammation in her brain stem, allowing her to sit up, talk, and eat solid food for the first time in months.
Every afternoon, Belvin would join Naomi and Maya in the medical suite for tea.
The sight of the most feared crime boss in New York sitting on a small pink chair, letting a sixteen-year-old girl teach him how to play chess while a massive pitbull rested his chin on his shoe, was a contradiction that melted the last of Naomi’s defenses.
"Checkmate, Mr. Santoro," Maya giggled, sliding her bishop across the board.
Belvin stared at the board, shaking his head with an amused smile. "You're ruthless, Maya. Just like your sister."
"Naomi isn't ruthless," Maya said, looking up at her sister who was preparing Titan’s afternoon supplements across the room. "She’s just brave. When our dad died and Julian Vance took everything, everyone told Naomi to give up and let the state take care of me. She refused. She worked three jobs, dropped out of school, and never complained once."
Belvin’s smile faded into a serious, dark contemplation. He looked over at Naomi.
"Vance didn't just defraud your father’s company, did he?" Belvin asked softly.
Naomi stopped stirring the bowl. She looked out the window toward the pine forest. "He was my father’s managing partner. He spent four years cooking the books, transferring assets to shell companies in the Cayman Islands. When the SEC launched an investigation, Vance planted the paper trail on my dad's desk. My father couldn't handle the shame of facing federal prison for a crime he didn't commit. He took his own life three days before Christmas."
The temperature in the room plummeted. Titan immediately lifted his head, sensing the shift in Belvin’s energy.
"And Vance bought his assets at auction for pennies on the dollar," Belvin concluded, his voice terrifyingly calm.
"Yes," Naomi whispered. "He took our home, my college trust, my mother's jewelry. He left us with nothing."
Belvin stood up from the chess table. He walked over to Naomi, placing his hands on the counter on either side of her, trapping her gently within his aura.
"Julian Vance built his fortune on destroyed families," Belvin said, his dark eyes burning with a cold, absolute resolve. "He thinks money washes blood away. But tonight, he is hosting his annual charity gala at the Metropolitan Club. Every corrupt politician, judge, and federal agent in the state will be there."
May you like
Naomi looked up into his eyes. "What are you going to do?"
"I am going to attend," Belvin replied smoothly. "And you, Miss Rivers, are going to be my date."
