Chapter 7 - The Mastermind Unmasked
Two days later, Luke was discharged from the hospital under the strict care of private physicians at the Lake Shore Drive penthouse. But the peace in the penthouse was short-lived; the fallout from the crash had ignited an all-out war across Chicago’s high society.
Victoria Marino arrived at the penthouse unannounced on Friday morning, flanked by two high-profile criminal defense attorneys. She marched into the library where Luke sat at his desk, his ribs tightly bound, reviewing legal filings with Mark and Nonna.
I was standing beside Luke, setting down a mug of herbal tea, when Victoria burst through the mahogany doors like a hurricane of designer silk and venom.
“You have to drop the charges, Luke!” Victoria demanded, slamming her designer handbag onto the desk. “Julian is your brother! He made a business miscalculation, that’s all! If you let the District Attorney prosecute him for corporate espionage and vehicular assault, the Marino name will be ruined on Wall Street!”
Luke didn't flinch. He slowly set down his pen, leaned back in his leather chair, and fixed his stepmother with a gaze so frigid it could have frozen molten iron.
“Julian is not my brother,” Luke said, his voice dangerously calm. “He is a criminal who embezzled eight million dollars from our supply chain accounts, forged my legal signature to steal real estate, and attempted to commit manslaughter on Lake Shore Drive.”
“He did it for this family!” Victoria screeched, pointing a trembling, manicured finger at me. “He did it to protect our legacy from this gold-digging peasant! She seduced you with cheap bread and sob stories to get her hands on the trust!”
“Enough, Victoria,” a voice cut through the air like a whip.
Nonna rose from the sofa, leaning on her silver cane, her eyes blazing with regal fury. “You never cared about this family’s legacy. You cared about the trust fund your late husband foolishly left under your control.”
Nonna signaled to Mark, who placed a heavy binder on the desk in front of Victoria.
“What is this?” Victoria sneered, glancing down with nervous darting eyes.
“Those are the forensic accounting records from our offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands,” Luke said smoothly. “Julian wasn't acting alone. You were the one who authorized the wire transfers to Mr. Henderson to buy out Bennett’s Bakery. You used company funds to purchase the building because you wanted to frame Julian as the fall guy while keeping the commercial real estate rights under your private shell corporation.”
Victoria’s breath hitched. Her aristocratic composure completely disintegrated. “You... you can’t prove that.”
“The FBI executed a search warrant on your personal residence in Lake Forest an hour ago,” Luke continued, tapping the desk. “They found the original hard drives and the encrypted burner phones you used to coordinate with the zoning board. You’re done, Victoria. By noon today, the board will vote unanimously to strip you of every share, every title, and every dime associated with Marino Hospitality.”
Victoria looked around the room, searching for an ally, but met only cold, unforgiving stone. Nonna turned her back on her. Mark stood by the door, signaling two federal agents who were waiting quietly in the outer foyer.
As the agents led Victoria away, she turned back one last time, glaring at me with raw, impotent malice. “You think you’ve won, baker girl? You’re nothing but a temporary contract! He’ll discard you the second his grandmother is in the ground!”
May you like
The doors clicked shut behind her.
The silence that settled over the library was deafening. Luke closed his eyes, exhaling a long, shuddering breath of release, shedding twenty years of familial deceit in a single afternoon.
