CHAPTER SEVEN
Danelle was just about to push the door open when it creaked open from the inside, and there she was—Erika Da Vinci, stepping out of the triplets' room with a look on her face Danelle had come to loathe.
That smile.
That smug, calculating, snake-in-heels smile.
Danelle's stomach dropped. That look only ever meant one thing: Erika had done something.
Something she'd regret later.
Danelle narrowed her eyes and folded her arms. "What were you doing in my children's room?"
Erika leaned against the doorframe, eyes gleaming. "Oh, just a little payback."
She winked and strutted past Danelle like she hadn't just pulled a potential landmine. Danelle's instincts screamed to go after her, to yank the truth out of her throat if she had to—but she didn't. Not yet.
Instead, she turned and stepped inside the kids' room.
The space was warm and cozy, lit by soft yellow lamplight. The scent of strawberries and talcum powder lingered in the air. Her children were curled up on the plush carpet, iPads in hand, each of them in their own little digital world.
Eva was the first to look up. "Mommy!"
The others raised their heads, eyes lighting up. But the moment they saw her face—smiling but not quite right—they knew something was up.
Danelle sat on the carpet and patted the floor in front of her. "Come here, sweethearts."
The triplets quickly put their iPads aside and gathered around her, sitting cross-legged in a semi-circle.
"What's wrong, Mommy?" Ethan asked, brow furrowed.
"You can talk to us about anything," Olivia added, her eyes wide with concern. Eva simply leaned her head on her mother's arm, a silent show of support.
Danelle took a breath. She hadn't planned to tell them like this, but Erika had clearly beat her to it.
"There's nothing wrong," she began, brushing Eva's curls from her forehead. "But there is something we need to talk about."
The room grew still.
"We're leaving Italy," she said, watching their faces closely.
None of them gasped. None of them cried. They just… waited.
"We're moving to a new town. It's called Damilton. That's where Mommy's next big job is, and it's very important to our family. I know you've made a lot of friends here, and it'll be hard to leave them behind. But I promise, you'll make new ones. And it'll be an adventure."
There was a beat of silence.
Then, to her shock, all three kids leapt to their feet with excited cheers.
"Yay! We're going to Damilton!" Olivia shouted.
"I can't wait!" Ethan added, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Eva clapped her hands and said the one thing that made Danelle freeze.
"We'll finally get to see our daddy."
Danelle blinked. "Your… what?"
The kids all nodded, talking over each other.
"Aunt Erika said our daddy lives in Damilton," Olivia said with a big grin.
"She said he's super rich!" Ethan added.
Danelle's blood turned to ice.
She forced a smile. "Did she now?"
"Is it true?" Eva asked, her eyes searching her mother's face for answers.
Danelle swallowed hard. "Yes… he does live there."
She could barely get the words out.
"What else did she say?" Danelle asked as casually as she could.
"Nothing much," Olivia shrugged. "Just that he's successful and rich and that maybe we'll meet him soon."
Danelle nodded, her face unreadable.
"Well," she said, rising to her feet, "go back to your games for a bit, okay? I need to finish some things before bedtime."
The kids scampered back to their iPads, laughing and chatting. Danelle closed the door behind her and leaned against it, pressing her palms flat to the wood.
That bitch.
She stormed down the hall, heading straight to Erika's room.
Empty.
She checked the lounge. Nothing.
Then she heard the sound of someone crunching.
In the kitchen.
There she was, perched on a stool, eating an apple like it was the most relaxing evening of her life.
"You little bitch," Danelle hissed. "How dare you tell my kids about their father?"
Erika turned to her, utterly unbothered. "Why? Did I say something that wasn't true?"
"It's not your place to tell them anything," Danelle snapped, barely able to contain herself.
"They were going to find out eventually," Erika said with a shrug. "You weren't going to tell them. So I did. You should thank me. I've saved you an awkward conversation."
Danelle clenched her fists. Her hands itched to wrap around Erika's throat, but she forced herself to breathe.
"You stay the hell away from my children," she said, her voice low and deadly. "Say one more word to them, and I swear, you'll regret it."
She turned to walk away.
"Enjoy Damilton," Erika called sweetly after her. "Don't bother coming back."
Danelle didn't turn around. She didn't need to.
Two days later, the black luxury SUV came to a smooth stop outside the private terminal of Florence's international airport. The sun hadn't even fully risen yet, casting a soft golden glow across the tarmac.
The driver helped them with their luggage, while the children, still a little sleepy, clung to their backpacks and pillows.
Danelle didn't let her guard down until they were in the air, soaring above Italy—leaving behind everything she had once feared… and everything she had built.
They landed in Damilton four hours later.
Waiting for them was a sleek black car with tinted windows and chrome details. The driver, dressed in a crisp gray suit and gloves, stepped forward and opened the door for her.
"Welcome to Damilton, Ms. Vinci," he said. "We've been expecting you."
The city had changed, but not much. The buildings were taller, perhaps. The roads smoother. But the air still carried the weight of her past.
Still, she wasn't the same woman who'd left.
She was stronger. Sharper. Dangerous.
The car pulled up in front of a massive mansion tucked in the quiet hills outside the city—a sprawling property wrapped in high stone walls, black wrought iron gates, and towering cypress trees.
The mansion itself was a vision of modern elegance—white marble, glass balconies, and ivy curling along the second floor. Several guards stood at attention on all sides, their expressions unreadable. The Da Vinci crest gleamed on the gate.
"Whoa…" Ethan breathed as they stepped out.
"This place is huge!" Olivia said, eyes wide.
"Do we really get to live here?" Eva asked in awe.
"Yes, sweethearts," Danelle said, smiling. "This is our new home."
The children darted toward the massive oak doors just as they opened, revealing eight maids lined up in perfect formation.
The woman at the front stepped forward, graceful and poised, her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a bun.
"Welcome, Madam Vinci. I am Racheal West, the head of staff here. We are honored to serve you."
Danelle nodded. "Thank you, Racheal."
The maids bowed deeply before moving into action, lifting bags, guiding the children to their rooms, ensuring everything was in place.
As Danelle walked through the grand foyer, she couldn't help but marvel. Polished floors, towering chandeliers, priceless art—this wasn't just a house. It was a fortress. A castle.
Her children had already disappeared down the hallway with three of the maids. Racheal led Danelle to her personal suite, a gorgeous room with sweeping windows that offered a view of the city skyline.
"I hope everything is to your liking, ma'am," Racheal said.
"It's perfect," Danelle said.
Racheal hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Forgive me… but you look very much like someone I once knew."
Danelle frowned. "What?"
The older woman smiled faintly. "Nothing, ma'am. I'll go check on dinner preparations."
She slipped away before Danelle could ask more.
Danelle moved to the window and stared out at Damilton.
Seven years.
Seven years since she was driven out of this city with nothing but pain and three lives growing inside her.
She was back now. And this time, it wasn't for closure.
It was for revenge.
Her phone rang, breaking her thoughts. A number she didn't recognize. She answered immediately.
"Hello?"
"Ma'am," a polite female voice said. "My name is Stella Weiss, your personal assistant, assigned by Madam Camilla."
Danelle smiled. Just in time. And she has same name as the house help. What a coincidence.
"Ah. Rosa Da Vinci here."
"How was your flight, ma'am?"
"It was fine. Stella, I need you to do something for me."
"Anything."
"Pull out every file on all active investors in the company. I want a list of those who pulled out, and I want names and profiles of the top five richest companies in Damilton. Send it all to my tablet. We've got work to do."
"Yes, ma'am."
Danelle ended the call and leaned back into the plush chair behind her desk.
They thought they buried her.
But Danelle had roots.
And now she was back—to bloom, to thrive, and to burn everything that tried to destroy her.
To Be Continued