Chapter 7
Vittorio Moretti walked to the heavy mahogany dining table, keeping Lucy securely cradled in his left arm. With his right hand, he pulled out a high-backed chair and gently set his daughter down.
"Emma," Vittorio commanded without looking away from the center of the room. "Take Lucy to my private study. Lock the reinforced door. Do not open it for anyone but me. And take this."
He reached into his tailored trousers and tossed a heavy ring of brass keys to the housekeeper. Emma caught them clumsily, her eyes wide. She nodded frantically, scooped Lucy into her arms, and rushed out of the breakfast room, the heavy double doors clicking shut behind her.
Now, it was just the three of them.
Vittorio slowly rolled his sleeves up past his elbows, the dark ink of his tattoos fully exposed to the bright morning light. He walked toward Marcus, who was leaning heavily against the wall, clutching his side.
"Three weeks," Vittorio said, his voice echoing off the marble floors. "For three weeks, you operated inside my home, eating my food, drinking my scotch, and abusing my child. Why?"
"Vittorio, listen to me," Marcus gasped, coughing slightly. "It wasn't personal. Bianca is unstable. She hated the kid. She was jealous of your dead wife! I was just trying to manage her so the wedding would go smoothly!"
"Liar!" Bianca screamed from the ottoman, pointing a shaking finger at Marcus. "You planned this! You told me that if we broke the girl's spirit, Vittorio would send her to a boarding school in Europe! You said she was a liability!"
Vittorio stopped in the center of the room, his eyes darting between the two of them. A dark, terrifying realization began to form behind his intense gray eyes. He wasn't just dealing with a cruel stepmother. He was dealing with a coordinated psychological attack.
"A liability," Vittorio repeated softly, tasting the word. He approached Marcus, his tall, muscular build casting a long shadow over the injured man. "You don't care about my family dynamics, Marcus. You are a corporate fixer for the Sterling syndicate. Why do you care if my daughter goes to a boarding school?"
Marcus pressed his lips together, his smugness completely gone, replaced by the grim silence of a man who knew he had been caught in a lethal trap.
Vittorio reached out with lightning speed, grabbing Marcus by the throat and slamming his head back against the cream-colored wall. Marcus choked, his feet kicking off the floor as Vittorio lifted him inches into the air with one hand.
"I won't ask again," Vittorio snarled, the civilized veneer entirely stripped away. "Why were you trying to isolate my daughter?"
"Because she's the heir!" Marcus choked out, his face turning a dark shade of purple as he clawed desperately at Vittorio’s iron grip. "The trust! The Moretti trust!"
Vittorio’s eyes narrowed. He loosened his grip just a fraction, allowing Marcus to drag a ragged breath into his lungs.
"Speak," Vittorio commanded.
May you like
"If the kid was sent away... declared psychologically unfit," Marcus wheezed, spit flying from his lips, "Bianca becomes the primary beneficiary upon marriage. Our syndicate... we needed your liquid assets, Vittorio. You’re too strong. We couldn't kill you. We had to take the money from the inside."
Vittorio let go. Marcus crumpled to the floor, gasping for air. The Mafia boss turned slowly, his lethal gaze falling upon his fiancée.
