Chapter 3 - Poison in the Wine
The room spun. I braced myself against the marble counter, my fingernails digging into the stone. ""David used my identity to rob the Moretti family?""
""Precisely,"" Vincent said, leaning his hip against the doorway, watching my reaction with calculating scrutiny. ""Dominic couldn't access our father's dead-man accounts without a clean, external proxy signature—someone the federal authorities wouldn't flag as connected to the syndicate. David seduced you, studied your handwriting, took your social security number, and filed the fraudulent power of attorney. Once the funds cleared, Dominic was supposed to eliminate you so the paper trail terminated in a tragic, unsolved robbery-homicide.""
""And David?"" My throat felt like sand. ""Where is he now?""
""Floating face down in the East River,"" Vincent said without blinking. ""Dominic doesn't pay loose ends. Marco pulled his body out of the water twenty minutes ago. A single bullet behind the right ear.""
My knees gave out. I hit the floor before Vincent could reach me, my forehead resting against the cool tile. The boy I had spent two years cooking dinners for, the man who had promised to marry me next spring, was a criminal puppet who had traded my life for blood money—and he had already paid the price. Tears stung my eyes, but they weren't tears of grief. They were pure, unadulterated fury.
A warm hand touched my shoulder. Vincent knelt down beside me, leveling his piercing gray eyes with mine.
""Cry if you must,"" he said softly. ""Then wipe your eyes and stand up. Grief won't keep you alive in this house, Rowan. Vengeance will.""
I forced air into my bruised lungs, swallowed the bitter bile rising in my throat, and looked up into the face of New York's most feared don. ""What do you want me to do?""
""Tomorrow night is the annual Solstice Gala at the Plaza Hotel,"" Vincent explained, helping me rise to my feet. ""All five syndicate leaders, their lieutenants, and corrupt city officials will be present. Dominic plans to present the forged bank transfers as proof that I have been embezzling from the family council, giving him the legal right under our code to challenge my leadership and execute me on the floor.""
""And how do I stop that?""
""You are going to walk into the ballroom on my arm,"" Vincent declared, a dangerous smirk curling the corner of his lips. ""You are the woman whose signature authorizes those accounts. You will stand in front of the entire underworld, look my brother in the eyes, and testify that Dominic forged every single dollar to commit treason against the Don.""
Before I could answer, a loud crash echoed from the main living area, followed by the deafening sound of automatic gunfire shattering the bulletproof terrace glass.
May you like
The heavy oak doors of the master bedroom splintered inward. Marco stumbled into the room, his black coat drenched in blood, his hand pressed against a ragged wound in his chest.
""Boss..."" Marco gasped, collapsing against the wall. ""Dominic didn't wait for the gala. He brought twenty mercenaries through the private elevator shaft... they cut the power grid!""
