Chapter 10 - THE DAY DOMINIC WALKED INTO A PRESCHOOL
Three months passed.
Dominic did not ask Sophia to return to the mansion.
That surprised everyone.
Including Dominic.
He did not send a car.
He did not pay her bills.
He did not have anyone repair her Honda.
Although he knew exactly which mechanic had done the work.
Victor refused to explain how Dominic knew that.
Sophia continued working at Moretti House four days a week.
Not six.
Dominic changed staff scheduling across the entire estate after discovering how many employees regularly worked sixty-hour weeks.
He claimed it was an operational efficiency adjustment.
Victor called it guilt with payroll software.
Dominic threatened to fire him.
Victor asked whether that meant he had weekends off.
Lily returned occasionally when Sophia’s childcare failed.
Not every day.
Just enough.
She treated the mansion like neutral territory now.
Leonardo continued living on Dominic’s desk.
A plastic zebra joined him.
Dominic did not ask why.
The investigation into Blue Harbor expanded.
Gabriel agreed to cooperate.
Not out of remorse.
Out of self-preservation.
Dominic was not surprised.
Several corrupt managers were charged.
Morgan Atlantic’s former management was replaced.
The company established a compensation fund for affected workers and families.
Sophia refused special treatment.
Dominic expected that.
She did agree to advise an outside attorney representing families impacted by unsafe warehouse practices.
That made him proud.
He didn't tell her.
Then one Tuesday morning, Dominic received a call from Sophia.
Not a text.
A call.
He answered before the first ring finished.
“Sophia.”
There was noise behind her.
Children.
A woman speaking.
Then Sophia’s shaky voice.
“Can you come?”
Dominic stood.
“Where?”
“Lily's preschool.”
His heart stopped.
“What happened?”
“She hit another child.”
Dominic blinked.
That was not what he expected.
“Is she hurt?”
“No.”
“Is the other child?”
“No.”
He sat back down.
Sophia sounded close to tears.
“His father is here.”
“And?”
“He's threatening to sue the school.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“You called me because someone threatened a preschool lawsuit?”
“I didn't know who else to call.”
That sentence erased every joke he might have made.
“I’m coming.”
Twenty-eight minutes later, Dominic Moretti entered Sunshine Early Learning Center.
The receptionist saw him.
Her face changed.
“Mr...”
“Moretti.”
“I know.”
Of course.
He hated that sometimes.
A paper turkey made from a child’s handprint was taped to the wall.
Dominic walked past tiny coats and cubbies with cartoon names.
His suit felt absurd.
Sophia waited inside the director’s office.
Lily sat in a little chair.
Arms folded.
Angry.
Across from her sat a boy with blond hair holding an ice pack against his shoulder.
He looked equally angry.
Two adults stood nearby.
The boy’s father wore an expensive suit.
Dominic recognized him.
Martin Greene.
Hedge fund.
Forty-five.
Loud.
The kind of man who believed wealth should be heard before it was seen.
Greene turned.
“Moretti?”
Sophia immediately said, “I didn't ask him to intimidate anyone.”
Dominic looked at her.
“I am standing.”
“Please continue doing only that.”
He almost smiled.
The preschool director looked relieved and terrified simultaneously.
“Mr. Moretti, perhaps everyone can sit.”
Dominic did.
In a chair designed for a four-year-old.
His knees rose almost to the table.
Lily stared at him.
Then giggled.
“Your chair is tiny.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
The tension broke slightly.
Dominic looked at Lily.
“What happened?”
She pointed at the boy.
“He said Daddy was dead because he didn't want me.”
Silence.
Sophia’s face tightened.
Dominic looked at the boy.
He seemed suddenly much smaller.
Greene spoke.
“My son repeated something he heard.”
“From who?”
Greene looked uncomfortable.
Lily answered.
“His daddy.”
Dominic turned.
Greene’s face reddened.
“That is not—”
The boy said, “You said her mom works for a gangster.”
The preschool director closed her eyes.
Sophia went pale.
Dominic’s entire body went cold.
Greene stammered.
“That was a private conversation.”
“With your four-year-old?” Sophia asked.
“I didn't realize—”
Lily interrupted.
“He said Mommy cleans bad people's toilets.”
Dominic stood.
The tiny chair scraped backward.
Greene stepped away.
Sophia touched Dominic’s arm.
“Standing only.”
He looked at her.
She meant it.
Dominic breathed.
Then sat again.
Slowly.
“Mr. Greene.”
Greene swallowed.
“Yes.”
“You discussed Sophia with your child.”
“It was a joke.”
There it was.
Dominic hated those words.
Maybe because too many cruel people used them as exits.
He looked at the blond boy.
“What is your name?”
“Oliver.”
“Oliver, did Lily push you?”
Oliver nodded.
Lily snapped, “Because he said—”
Dominic lifted one finger.
She stopped.
“Did you push him?”
“Yes.”
“Was that right?”
Her face crumpled.
“No.”
“Then what do you do?”
She looked at Oliver.
“Sorry.”
Oliver shrugged.
Dominic waited.
Lily added, “I shouldn't push.”
“Good.”
Then Dominic looked at Oliver.
The boy stared.
Dominic softened his voice.
“Do you think Lily's father didn't love her?”
Oliver looked uncertain.
“My dad said—”
“I asked what you think.”
Oliver looked at Lily.
“No.”
“Do you think someone’s job makes them less important?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
“Then perhaps you owe her something.”
Oliver looked at Lily.
“Sorry.”
Lily nodded.
“Okay.”
The children were finished.
Adults never were.
Greene cleared his throat.
“I still think the school—”
Sophia turned.
“No.”
Greene blinked.
“This was your fault too.”
“My fault?”
“You took gossip about me, said it in front of your son, and he brought it here.”
Greene became defensive.
“You work for a known—”
Dominic looked at him.
Greene stopped.
Sophia continued.
“My daughter was wrong to push your son.”
She touched Lily’s shoulder.
“She apologized.”
Then her eyes hardened.
“But you don't get to teach your child that women who clean houses are beneath you.”
Dominic watched her.
Proud.
Definitely proud.
He still said nothing.
Greene muttered an apology.
The meeting ended without lawsuits.
Outside, Sophia leaned against Dominic’s car.
“I can't believe that happened.”
Lily held Dominic’s hand.
He had not offered it.
She had simply taken it.
“She pushed him.”
Sophia sighed.
“I know.”
“I pushed Mason once,” Lily announced.
Sophia looked down.
“What?”
“He took my crayon.”
“When?”
“Before.”
Dominic looked at Sophia.
Her face suggested a second disciplinary meeting might be coming.
Lily continued.
“But I said sorry.”
“Eventually,” Sophia said.
They walked toward the car.
Sophia stopped.
“Thank you.”
“For sitting in a small chair?”
“For coming.”
“You called.”
“I know.”
He looked at her.
“Call again.”
Her expression softened.
Lily tugged his hand.
“Mr. Dominic?”
“Yes.”
“Can you come to Family Day?”
Sophia froze.
Dominic looked down.
“What is Family Day?”
“People come.”
“That is disturbingly vague.”
“Parents and grandmas and people.”
Sophia opened her mouth.
Lily continued.
“Mommy comes.”
Dominic said, “Then why do you need me?”
Lily frowned.
“Because you’re my people.”
Dominic could not breathe.
Sophia looked away quickly.
Lily swung his hand.
“Can you?”
Dominic looked at Sophia.
She had tears in her eyes.
“Only if your mother says yes.”
Sophia met his gaze.
“Yes.”
The word was soft.
Dominic nodded.
“Then I’ll come.”
Lily smiled.
“Good.”
The following week, the most feared man in half of New York spent forty-five minutes sitting on a preschool gymnasium floor decorating a paper family tree.
Lily drew Sophia.
Daniel.
Aunt Mary.
Then herself.
Finally, she drew Dominic.
He looked at the stick figure.
Black suit.
Huge head.
Angry eyebrows.
“That is inaccurate.”
Lily shook her head.
“No.”
Sophia laughed.
Dominic pointed.
“My head is not that large.”
“It’s your brain.”
He stopped.
Sophia laughed harder.
Lily wrote names beneath each figure.
Under Dominic’s, she asked Sophia how to spell.
Sophia told her.
Then Lily added a heart.
Dominic looked at it.
“What is that?”
May you like
“Family.”
No one had warned him Family Day could be more dangerous than an ambush.
