Chapter 7
Victor’s first instinct was to handle Seraphina privately.
His second was worse.
His lawyer knew both instincts from his face.
“No.”
Victor looked at him.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Seraphina had already filed for protective relief based on Victor’s slap.
Her lawyers claimed she feared retaliation.
That claim was not ridiculous.
He had struck her at their wedding reception in front of witnesses.
The prosecutor offered Victor a misdemeanor diversion agreement.
Anger-management counseling.
Community service with no Bellacosta donations.
No contact with Seraphina.
No witness intimidation.
No indirect messages.
If completed, the charge could be dismissed.
Victor’s captains called it humiliation.
Beatrice called it adulthood.
Victor signed.
Not because he felt gentle.
Because he finally understood that Seraphina had wanted him violent.
Every private threat would help her.
Every loyal cousin knocking on a door would help her.
Every whisper from his men would make Beatrice look like a frightened old woman trapped between criminals.
So Victor gave an order:
“No one contacts Seraphina, her lawyers, her investigator, her banker, Beatrice’s lawyer, or any witness. No visits. No calls. No favors. No warnings.”
One captain asked:
“And if she talks?”
Victor answered:
“Then we listen in court.”
The room went quiet.
May you like
That was not Bellacosta language.
It became the first crack in the old house.
