Chapter 4 - TENDING TO THE SCARS
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The sounds of Vanessa's distant screams and chaotic protests echoed through the manor's massive ventilation ducts.
Sophia jumped at every sudden noise, squeezing my hand as Dr. Evans finished wrapping clean white bandages around her arches.
"All done, brave girl," Dr. Evans said gently, packing away his medical scissors and sterile gauze.
"Drink this warm tea, Sophia, and rest your feet for at least two full days."
Sophia nodded weakly, sipping the chamomile tea I had prepared with two generous spoons of clover honey.
"Claire, please don't leave me alone," she begged softly, tugging at the sleeve of my uniform.
"I won't leave your side for a single second, sweetheart," I promised, smoothing back her damp curls.
I carefully lifted Sophia into my arms, carrying her up the rear service staircase to avoid the chaotic foyer.
Her bedroom was a spacious, pink-tinted sanctuary filled with plush stuffed animals, books, and delicate porcelain dolls.
Yet despite all the luxury, the room felt hollow and cold, stripped of its former motherly warmth.
I helped her change out of the soaked school uniform into a soft, dry pair of fleece pajamas.
As I pulled the wet blouse over her shoulders, my breath hitched in my throat, and tears burned my eyes.
Across her upper arms and along her delicate ribs were dark, yellowish bruises shaped like adult fingerprints.
"Sophia... what are these?" I asked, my voice cracking with horrified disbelief.
She immediately pulled her arms down, trying desperately to hide her porcelain skin beneath the fleece sleeves.
"Vanessa said if I told Daddy, he would send me away to a boarding school across the ocean."
"She pinched me whenever I cried for Mommy."
"She told me Daddy was tired of looking at me because my face looks just like Mommy's."
"She threw my dinner in the trash three nights this week because I wouldn't call her 'Mother.'"
My heart shattered into a thousand jagged pieces as I held the weeping child against my chest.
I had worked in this mansion for eight months, always suspecting Vanessa was cold, but I never imagined such evil.
Suddenly, the bedroom door opened quietly, and Luca stood framed in the doorway.
His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned at the throat, his sleeves rolled up, revealing his intricate mafia tattoos.
He had heard Sophia's fragile confession from the open hallway.
The ruthless king of Chicago's underworld looked completely broken as he stared at his battered little girl.
He walked into the room with heavy, unsteady steps, dropping to both knees beside Sophia's four-poster bed.
"Daddy..." Sophia whimpered, shrinking back instinctively against the pillows.
Luca saw her flinch away from him, and the pain in his dark eyes was agonizing to witness.
"Oh, princess... forgive me," Luca choked out, burying his face into the soft quilt beside her feet.
"Your father was supposed to protect you from the entire world, and I let a monster sleep under our roof."
He reached out, his powerful hands trembling visibly, and gently cradled her tear-stained cheeks.
"Look at me, Sophia."
The little girl looked into her father's eyes, seeing genuine tears welling in the gaze of a man who never showed weakness.
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"Nobody will ever hurt you again," Luca swore, his voice thick with unshakeable conviction.
"Not Vanessa, not the Russos, not anyone as long as there is breath left in my body."
