Chapter 5 - The War at the Gates
The transition from maid to ward of the Rossi family was far from smooth.
While Carmela treated Skyler like a beloved daughter and Dominic provided her with an army of personal guards, the rest of the New York underworld saw Skyler as a bizarre liability—a plus-size servant who had somehow brought down the multi-million-dollar alliance between the Rossi and Moretti families.
Three weeks after Skyler moved into the guest suite, the Rossi Commission held an emergency summit at the estate’s grand dining hall.
The leaders of five major syndicate families arrived under heavy guard, taking their seats around a long mahogany table to discuss the escalating violence on the docks following Victor Moretti’s retaliation strikes.
Skyler, who preferred to remain in her room, was asked by Carmela to join them for lunch.
As Skyler walked into the dining hall wearing an elegant navy-blue wrap dress that complemented her full figure and auburn hair, the room fell dead silent.
Don Antonio Falcone, an elderly, traditional syndicate boss from Brooklyn, set his wine glass down with a loud clatter, scoffing aloud.
"Dominic," Falcone barked, pointing a thick, ringed finger at Skyler. "Is this the girl? The maid who caused us to lose the Newark port distribution routes?"
Skyler froze near the entrance, her hands trembling as she clutched her small leather handbag. The familiar feeling of being judged, mocked, and dismissed swept over her like a wave of cold ice.
Dominic, sitting at the head of the long table, didn't raise his voice. He set his golden fountain pen down on his notepad.
"Watch your tone, Antonio," Dominic said, his voice dripping with deadly tranquility.
"I will not watch my tone!" Falcone argued, standing up and slamming his hands on the table. "We are losing millions every day because you broke your contract with Moretti over a two-hundred-pound servant girl! She isn't family! She isn't syndicate blood! She's a nobody!"
Skyler turned to step backward out of the hall, her face burning with humiliation.
"Skyler. Stay," Dominic commanded softly.
She stopped.
Dominic stood up from his chair. His impressive stature seemed to expand, filling the cavernous dining hall with a suffocating, lethal pressure. He walked slowly around the mahogany table until he stood directly beside Skyler.
In front of twelve syndicate leaders, thirty armed bodyguards, and his own lieutenants, Dominic reached out and placed his arm firmly around Skyler’s waist, pulling her close against his side.
The entire room gasped.
"Antonio," Dominic said, looking at the older boss with eyes that promised violence. "Skyler Gallagher took a poisoned blade meant for my mother. She possesses more honor, courage, and loyalty in her little finger than you have demonstrated in forty years of running your family."
Falcone sputtered, his face turning red. "Dominic, this is insane! You're parading a maid like she's royalty!"
"She is under the protection of the Rossi name," Dominic declared, his voice echoing off the stone walls like a thunderclap. "If anyone in this room—or in this city—disrespects her, mocks her, or threatens her safety, I will consider it a direct declaration of war against me personally. Is that understood?"
Silence descended upon the dining hall. Not a single boss dared to meet Dominic's gaze.
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Dominic turned to Skyler, his expression instantly softening as he looked down into her wide, tear-filled eyes.
"Sit beside me," he whispered, guiding her to the empty velvet chair right at his right hand—the chair meant for the future Don's wife.
