Chapter 3 - The Broken Mask
The grand tasting salon on the estate's main level was a masterpiece of mahogany woodwork and crystal chandeliers, but tonight it felt like an interrogation chamber in a foreign warzone. Daniel Mercer was on his knees in the center of the Persian rug, his bespoke silk tie shredded, his face pale as chalk, and his hands zip-tied securely behind his back. Two of Gabriel’s silent operatives stood directly behind him, their hands resting comfortably on the holsters at their hips.
When the heavy salon doors swung open and Gabriel walked in with Rebecca supported gently at his side, Daniel’s eyes bugged out of his head. The sight of his timid, working-class fiancée wrapped inside the billionaire’s personal overcoat seemed to shatter what little sanity he had left.
""Becca!"" Daniel blurted out, a desperate, sickeningly sweet smile plastering over his panic. ""Becca, baby! Thank God you're safe! Mr. Moretti, listen to me! I only locked the door because I thought an intruder had breached the perimeter! I was trying to protect her! You know how hysterical she gets—she misunderstood the whole situation!""
Rebecca stood frozen, the audacity of his lie hitting her like a slap across the face. For seven years, she had lived in the shadow of this man. She had tolerated his passive-aggressive insults, his subtle gaslighting, his endless insistence that she was ""just a simple maid"" who would be nothing without his generosity. She had cleaned his clothes, cooked his meals, managed this cavernous mansion until her hands were raw, all while he orchestrated a multi-million-dollar scam and planned to send her to federal prison in his place.
""You struck me with your ring, Daniel,"" Rebecca said, her voice shaking at first, then hardening as she met his frantic gaze. ""You threw my phone against the mahogany desk. You told me I had always had a problem knowing my place, and that nobody would ever look for a dead maid in a basement.""
""She's lying! She's covering her own tracks!"" Daniel shrieked, struggling against the heavy zip-ties. ""She's an uneducated orphan from the South Side! I plucked her out of poverty! Check the bank transfers, Mr. Moretti! Her signature is on every single Cayman routing voucher!""
Gabriel took a slow step forward, the temperature in the room dropping to sub-zero levels. He pulled a thick leather dossier from his assistant’s hands and tossed it onto the glass coffee table with a resounding smack.
""The signatures are remarkably accurate, Daniel,"" Gabriel said smoothly, taking a silver lighter from his vest pocket and flicking it open. The small flame danced, reflecting in his icy pupils. ""A professional mechanical autopen, purchased through an anonymous shell company in Delaware six months ago. We found the invoice for the machine in your personal storage unit in Naperville three days ago.""
Daniel’s face drained of every remaining drop of color. ""That... that's impossible. That unit was rented under a fake passport—""
He stopped abruptly, realizing he had just handed Gabriel his own confession.
""Under the name of David Miller,"" Gabriel continued, his voice terrifyingly calm. ""Along with forty-two million dollars in bearer bonds, two fake passports with your photograph, and a one-way ticket to Dubai scheduled for departure tomorrow morning at 6:00 a.m.""
Gabriel leaned down until his face was inches from Daniel’s sweating forehead. ""You didn't just steal from Moretti Holdings, Daniel. You abused my trust. You abused the authority I granted you over this estate. And worst of all, you laid your filthy hands on a woman who kept this house running with an integrity you couldn't comprehend in ten lifetimes.""
""Please, Gabriel... Mr. Moretti..."" Daniel began to weep openly, mucus and tears running down his chin. ""I can give the money back! All of it! I haven't spent the principal! Just let me leave the country. I'll vanish! You'll never see me again!""
""You are indeed going to vanish from Chicago, Daniel,"" Gabriel said, straightening up with an expression of pure disgust. ""But you will not be boarding a flight to the United Arab Emirates. Adrien, take him to the holding facility at the docks. Strip him of all communication devices. We will let the federal prosecutors have whatever is left of him once our private accountants finish auditing his bones.""
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""No! Becca, please! Tell him to stop! I love you! We were going to get married in the spring!"" Daniel screamed as two massive security guards hauled him up by his armpits, dragging his heels across the polished floorboards toward the service exit.
Rebecca turned her back on him, closing her eyes as the heavy oak doors shut out his wailing cries forever.
