Chapter 2 - The silent interrogation
The lavish party continued upstairs, but the atmosphere had shifted into a tense, nervous energy. The guests knew better than to ask questions when the head of the Caruso family was displeased. Vincent had immediately ordered his men to pull Celeste from the freezing courtyard and bring her down to his private study in the basement of the estate. The room was soundproof, lined with dark mahogany bookshelves, and smelled of aged bourbon and leather. Vincent stood behind his massive desk, his black coat discarded, leaving only the tailored charcoal tuxedo that stretched across his broad shoulders. He poured himself a glass of water, his mind racing. Eight years ago, his beloved wife had died giving birth to Noelle. The doctors had told him it was a complicated delivery, a tragedy that took the love of his life but spared his daughter. There was never a mention of a son.
The heavy wooden doors opened, and two massive guards escorted Celeste into the room. She was no longer shivering, but her emerald winter gown was slightly damp at the hem from the snow. She smoothed her dress with a calm, arrogant grace and sat down in the leather chair opposite Vincent’s desk without being asked. She crossed her legs, leaning back as if she owned the room. The guards stepped out, leaving the two of them alone.
You always were dramatic, Vincent, Celeste said, examining her manicured nails. Throwing me into the snow in front of the governor. How primitive.
Explain what you said at the door, Vincent commanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. And do not play games with me, Celeste. I am not your husband. I do not tolerate your manipulations.
Celeste chuckled softly, a cold sound that echoed in the quiet room. My husband is a fool who cares more about his cars than this family’s legacy. But you, Vincent... you are the king. And kings need heirs. A daughter cannot run the syndicate. You know that. The commission knows that.
I said explain, Vincent stepped around the desk, towering over her.
Eight years ago, when your fragile little wife went into labor, she was carrying twins, Celeste said, her voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. A boy and a girl. She was bleeding out. The doctors panicked. I was the only family member in the waiting room because you were busy negotiating that port deal in Miami.
Vincent’s chest tightened. He remembered the frantic flight home, arriving just in time to see his wife pass away, leaving him with a tiny baby girl.
I made an executive decision for the good of the Caruso family, Celeste continued, her eyes gleaming with a sick pride. I paid the chief of medicine a very generous sum. I took the boy. I told the doctor to tell you there was only one child.
Vincent’s hands curled into fists. The urge to act violently was overwhelming, but he maintained his frightening composure. Why? he asked, his voice deathly quiet.
Because I knew you would never remarry, Celeste smiled. I knew Noelle would be your only child. Which meant, eventually, the syndicate would need a male heir. I decided to raise him myself, in secret, away from your soft, sentimental parenting. I molded him. And now, he is ready.
Where is he? Vincent demanded.
Celeste stood up, completely unafraid. If you ever want to meet him, you will step down as the head of the family. You will hand the syndicate over to me, and I will introduce you to your son. You have until Christmas morning to make the transfer. If you touch me, or if you try to find him yourself, my people have orders to take him out of the country forever.
May you like
She turned and walked toward the door. Vincent did not stop her. He watched her leave, his mind calculating every possible angle. He was a legendary mafia boss. He did not negotiate with terrorists, even if they were family. He walked over to his safe, opened it, and pulled out a secure satellite phone. He dialed his most trusted enforcer.
I need every financial record associated with Celeste for the last eight years, Vincent ordered into the phone. Every property, every shell corporation, every charity she donates to. She's hiding something massive, and I'm going to tear her world apart to find it.
