Chapter 3 - A FEAST OF VIPERS
Dinner that evening was a masterclass in deception. The dining room table was set with fine silver and crystal, illuminated by a low chandelier that cast deceptive shadows over the faces of the three people sitting around it.
Dominic cut into his steak, chewing thoughtfully as he looked at Serena. She was radiant in a crimson dress, her smile as warm and inviting as a sunlit trap. Across from her sat Marcus, nursing a glass of bourbon, his posture relaxed, exuding the easy confidence of a loyal friend.
“Everything set for Thursday, Dom?” Marcus asked casually, taking a sip of his drink. “I heard whispers from the docks. The boys are getting antsy.”
Dominic didn’t miss the subtle, almost imperceptible glance Marcus threw at Serena.
“Thursday is the biggest move we’ve made in a decade,” Dominic lied smoothly, setting down his knife. “Thirty million in untraceable assets. Pier Forty-Seven at midnight. I’m pulling all the usual guards off the perimeter. We need to keep this tight. Just a skeleton crew. I want you to handle the exchange personally, Marcus.”
Marcus’s eyes gleamed with poorly hidden greed. “You can count on me, brother. I’ll make sure it goes off without a hitch.”
“I know you will,” Dominic smiled. It was a terrifying smile, had either of them known how to read it.
Serena reached over and placed her manicured hand over Dominic’s. “You’ve been working too hard, darling. After Thursday, we should go to the Amalfi Coast. Just the two of us. Escape all this... stress.”
“Escape,” Dominic repeated softly, looking at her hand resting on his. He felt a sudden, violent urge to pin it to the table with his steak knife. Instead, he turned his hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. “That sounds like a beautiful idea, Serena. A fresh start.”
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Later that night, long after Serena had fallen asleep, Dominic sat in his dark office. He turned on the bug scanner Tony had given him, sweeping the room. Clean. He then pulled out his encrypted phone and dialed Tony.
“The bait is taken,” Dominic whispered. “Assemble the Old Guard. We don’t use the regular soldiers—half of them might be bought by Marcus. We use my father’s men. The ones who remember what loyalty actually means.”
