Chapter 8 - The Velvet Trap
The temperature in the dining hall seemed to drop below freezing.
The five senior lieutenants slowly turned their heads to stare at Anthony. Sal’s hand subtly shifted toward his inner jacket pocket, while the other lieutenants backed their chairs away from the counselor.
"Vincent... this is madness," Anthony stammered, taking a step backward toward the dining hall entrance. "I have served this family for twenty years! I served your father! You're taking the word of an old fairy tale over your most trusted advisor?"
"I don't need to take the word of a book, Anthony," Vincent said smoothly.
Vincent raised his hand and clapped twice.
The side service doors opened, and Marco walked into the room, hauling the captured mercenary leader in handcuffs. The mercenary was bruised, his tactical vest torn, his head hanging low.
Vincent pointed at Anthony. "Is this the man who gave you the security codes for my north gate tonight?"
The mercenary lifted his head, looked directly at Anthony’s silver hair and gold glasses, and nodded once. "Yes. That’s him. He paid us fifty thousand in advance from an offshore account in Grand Cayman."
Anthony’s face went completely ash-white. Sweat broke out across his forehead, glistening under the chandelier light.
"You traitorous dog!" Lieutenant Sal roared, drawing his weapon and aiming it directly at Anthony’s chest.
"Wait!" Anthony gasped frantically, raising his hands, his calm demeanor disintegrating into pure terror. "Sal! Vincent! Listen to me! I did it for the syndicate! Gabriel was going to dismantle our entire shipping network! He was going to go legitimate! He was going to ruin everything we built!"
"Gabriel was my blood," Vincent said, stepping around the mahogany table with slow, deliberate strides, his massive frame looming over the trembling counselor. "And his daughter is my family."
Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the dining hall clicked.
A young woman in a white blouse, black vest, and black trousers stepped into the room, holding a tray of polished glasses.
It was Sophia Lane—the former hostess from The Velvet Rose.
Claire, who had been listening from the adjacent hallway balcony with Marco's security guards, gasped as she saw the girl.
Sophia didn't look at Claire or Mia. She walked straight over to Anthony, pulling a small silver-plated pistol from beneath her serving tray and handing it directly to the counselor.
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"Father, move!" Sophia screamed.
Sophia was Anthony Vance’s secret daughter—planted six months ago as an elite informant at The Velvet Rose to monitor high-society movements and track any sign of Gabriel’s surviving family!
