Chapter 4 - The Courthouse
The Chicago family courthouse was a bleak, imposing building, but when Dante Cavallo’s security detail swarmed the marble steps, the atmosphere shifted entirely.
Clara held Leo’s hand tightly as they walked through the metal detectors. Dante walked a half-step ahead of her, an immovable wall of dark authority. The whispers started immediately. Lawyers, clerks, and police officers recognized the mafia boss, parting like the Red Sea to let them pass.
They reached the corridor outside Courtroom 4B. Beatrice Jenkins was already there.
Beatrice wore a Chanel suit, her silver hair perfectly coiffed. She was laughing with her two high-priced attorneys, looking every bit the triumphant predator. But when she turned and saw Clara, the laugh died in her throat.
Beatrice’s eyes swept over Clara’s expensive clothes, the massive diamond on her hand, and finally, the terrifying man standing at her side.
“Clara,” Beatrice sneered, recovering her composure. “What kind of stunt is this? Are you renting escorts now to look stable?”
Dante didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. He took one slow step toward Beatrice, and her two attorneys instinctively backed away.
“Speak to my wife with that tone again,” Dante said, his voice a lethal, quiet rasp, “and I will buy your country club just to have it bulldozed with you inside.”
Beatrice paled. “Your… wife?”
“We were married at six a.m. this morning by a private magistrate,” Dante lied effortlessly, though his lawyers had already filed the airtight paperwork. “Leo is now my stepson. I suggest you tell your lawyers to pack up their briefcases, Beatrice. You’re entirely out of your depth.”
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Before Beatrice could stammer a response, the bailiff opened the heavy wooden doors. “Jenkins custody hearing. Judge Harrison presiding. All parties step inside.”
Dante placed a heavy, warm hand on the small of Clara’s back. “Showtime, angel,” he whispered. “Walk in there and take what is yours.”
