Chapter 10 - The Chair Beside the King
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky over Illinois in breathtaking shades of gold, violet, and soft crimson, the guests slowly filtered away, leaving the estate in a quiet, serene peace.
The grand dining room inside the mansion was quiet now, but it was no longer cold or dark. Soft, warm amber light spilled from the crystal chandelier, illuminating the long mahogany table.
Only two places were set.
Julian sat at the head of the table in his leather armchair. On his plate sat a simple homemade dinner of roasted chicken and vegetables.
Beside him, in the mahogany chair that had sat empty for two dark, agonizing years, sat Maya.
She wore a simple pink nightgown, her dark curls damp from her bath, munching happily on a warm buttered dinner roll.
Julian looked down at his daughter. He looked at her bright eyes, her healthy, glowing skin, and the peaceful smile resting on her lips.
He remembered the night three years ago—the night a terrified, confused three-year-old girl in a teal dress had walked into his mausoleum of a dining room, looked at a feared mob boss surrounded by armed guards, and asked a simple, heartbreaking question: “Mister… may I eat with you?”
She had seen past the reputation, past the guns, past the terrifying power that made grown men shake. She had simply seen a lonely, grieving man eating by himself in the dark.
"Daddy?" Maya spoke up softly, breaking his quiet reflection, holding a small piece of her dinner roll out toward him. "Do you want half my bread?"
Julian let out a soft, beautiful laugh—a sound full of complete, unadulterated peace.
He took the piece of bread from her tiny hand.
"Thank you, sweetheart," Julian said softly, his voice thick with a warmth that filled every corner of the vast room.
Maya leaned over the armrest of her chair, resting her head gently against his arm, sighing happily as she looked at the warm lights of the chandelier.
"I like eating with you, Daddy," Maya whispered, her eyelids growing heavy as sleep began to reclaim her. "It makes the big house feel warm."
Julian wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against his side, resting his chin gently against the top of her dark curls.
May you like
He looked around the grand room—a room that had once held the heavy silence of death and vengeance, but now held only the soft, rhythmic breathing of a child who was safe, loved, and finally home.
"Me too, my sweet girl," Julian whispered into the warm, glowing quiet of the night. "Me too."
