Chapter 6 - The Sunlit East Wing
The transition from the damp, windowless basement to the east wing estate manager’s quarters felt like moving from a tomb straight into a palace.
By Sunday afternoon, two of Alejandro’s enforcers had personally helped us carry our meager belongings—a few worn clothes, a box of kitchen utensils, and Barnaby the rabbit—up the grand staircases and into the sprawling, sun-drenched apartment located on the second floor of the east wing.
The rooms smelled of fresh lavender, polished cedar, and old paper. High ceilings soared above us, draped with silk curtains that parted to reveal sweeping views of the estate’s manicured rose gardens and the iron gates gleaming in the afternoon sun.
Mama stood in the center of the master bedroom, staring at the plush velvet armchair and the large, mahogany-framed window in absolute disbelief.
"Emma," Mama whispered, kneeling down and taking my hands in hers. Her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. "Look at this. We have a kitchen with windows. We have real beds. We... we don't have to go back down there ever again."
"Are we safe here, Mama?" I asked, clutching Barnaby tightly against my chest.
Mama closed her eyes for a second, swallowing hard, before pulling me into a fierce, suffocating hug. "Yes, sweetheart. We’re safe. Mr. Moretti... he keeps his word."
Later that evening, a knock echoed at our front door.
Mama opened it cautiously, her posture instantly stiffening into rigid respect.
Standing in the doorway was Dr. Vance, the estate’s senior physician—a tall, silver-haired man carrying a sleek leather medical bag. Behind him stood a silent enforcer holding two heavy shopping bags stamped with the logo of the city’s finest children’s boutique.
"Good evening, Elena," Dr. Vance said politely, stepping into the foyer with a warm, reassuring smile. "Mr. Moretti sent me. He wants a complete medical evaluation for young Emma—specifically regarding her allergy profile, her EpiPen supply, and her overall health. No expenses spared."
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My eyes widened as the enforcer set the shopping bags down on the hardwood floor. Inside were brand-new clothes, soft winter coats, a dozen storybooks, and an enormous, fluffy white bunny plush that made Barnaby look tiny and tired by comparison.
"Mr. Moretti doesn't do things by halves," Dr. Vance added quietly, unpacking his stethoscope as he smiled down at me. "He realized that a king’s protector deserves the finest armor."
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