Chapter 3 - COLLATERAL DAMAGE
It took exactly twenty-two minutes for Vincent’s personal physician to arrive. For those twenty-two minutes, the dining room was a beautifully decorated hostage situation.
I stood in the corner, holding Lily tightly against my chest, shielding her eyes. The Bellini lawyers were sweating through their bespoke suits. Sophia sat in her chair, weeping flawlessly, though the tears did nothing to soften the lethal coldness in Vincent’s eyes.
When Dr. Aris finished the examination in the adjoining parlor, he walked back into the dining room and gave Vincent a single, curt shake of his head.
“Empty,” Dr. Aris said. “She’s not pregnant. Never was.”
Vincent stood up. He buttoned his suit jacket, the fabric pulling taut over his broad shoulders. He looked at the marriage contract on the table—the document that would have merged the Moretti and Bellini syndicates, transferring three shipping ports and a billion dollars in real estate into Sophia’s name in the event of an heir.
He picked up the document and tore it cleanly in half.
“Vincent, please,” Sophia begged, dropping her pristine facade. Her voice was shrill now. “My father made me do it! He said we needed the ports—”
“Your father is a dead man,” Vincent said. His voice lacked any heat. It was absolute zero. “And if you, your sister, or your lawyers are still in my city by sunrise, you will join him.”
Dante and the guards dragged the kicking, screaming Bellinis out of the penthouse. The expensive Bordeaux was left untouched. The roast lamb grew cold. Within minutes, the massive dining room was empty, save for the guards, Vincent, me, and Lily.
I hugged my daughter tighter, preparing for the worst. I was a loose end. In the mafia, loose ends were burned.
Vincent turned his dark gaze toward me. He walked slowly across the Persian rug. I braced myself, closing my eyes, praying he would at least spare my child.
“Elena,” he murmured.
I opened my eyes. He was standing right in front of me, smelling of sandalwood and impending violence. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the taped-together lab report Lily had placed on the table.
“You knew,” he stated. It wasn't a question. “You taped this together. Why didn't you bring it to me?”
“Because they would have killed me,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “Sophia’s father threatened me on my first day here. He said if I ever saw anything, my daughter would be put in a woodchipper. I’m sorry. I just wanted to keep her safe.”
Vincent stared at my terrified face, then down at Lily, who was yawning, blissfully unaware of the slaughter she had just initiated.
“You did keep her safe,” Vincent said softly. He reached out, his knuckles lightly grazing Lily’s cheek. “And you saved my empire. You don't clean floors anymore, Elena. Dante!”
May you like
Dante stepped into the room. “Boss?”
“Move Elena and the child to the East Wing guest suites. Post two guards at their door. No one gets to them without going through me.”
