Chapter 4
"Dante," Vincent said flatly, pulling his luxury wristwatch off his wrist and placing it calmly in his suit pocket. "Hand over your weapon."
Dante’s jaw worked silently. "Vincent, I’m your brother! You're going to take the word of a servant over your own blood?"
"Marco was my brother too," Vincent answered, taking a step closer. "And Clara is under my roof. In this house, no one touches my people."
Dante slowly reached into his navy suit jacket, his fingers twitching near his leather holster. For a split second, he looked as though he might draw his weapon. But the two security guards behind him instantly raised their sidearms, their laser sights resting squarely on Dante’s chest.
Dante swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he unclipped his holster and handed his firearm to the guard.
"Take him to the west wing suite," Vincent ordered the guards. "Lock the iron doors. No phones, no visitors, no contact with the council until I plug this drive into my desk."
"Vincent, you're making a mistake!" Dante shouted as the guards grabbed his arms, dragging him down the long carpeted hallway. "She’s setting you up! The Falcones sent her!"
Dante’s yells faded as the heavy iron doors at the end of the corridor slammed shut.
The hallway returned to quiet stillness.
Clara stood near the wall, her breathing shallow, her eyes wide with shock. She had spent three long, agonizing years living under Dante’s thumb, jumping at every footstep, constantly terrified that her child would be taken away. Now, in less than twenty minutes, her tormentor was locked in a cell.
Vincent walked over to Clara. The terrifying, lethal aura that had surrounded him seconds ago completely vanished. He looked at Clara with deep, genuine remorse.
"Clara," Vincent said softly. "Why didn't you come to me three years ago?"
May you like
"I was afraid, sir," Clara whispered, tears running down her cheeks. "Dante said you would believe him over me. He said I was just a maid, and you were a Mafia boss who didn't care about the staff."
Vincent reached out, his broad, calloused hand gently touching Clara’s shoulder. "He lied to you. You and Ellie move into the master guest suite tonight."
