Chapter 4 - The Ivory Thread
Miles away, in a sleek, hyper-modern penthouse overlooking the city skyline, Vivienne was screaming.
She hurled a crystal vase at the wall, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces on the hardwood floor. Her cheek still burned with a dull, throbbing pain. The humiliation of being struck down in front of the city's elite was entirely unbearable. She looked at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Her ivory dress was ruined.
"He changed the inheritance," she muttered to herself, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. "He cut me out. He cut us out."
Sitting on a white leather sofa in the center of the room was a teenage boy. He was sixteen, with sharp features, fair skin, and dark hair that matched Damian's perfectly. He wore a heavy, expensive sweater, staring at his phone with utter boredom. This was Julian. The supposed true heir. The son Vivienne claimed she had with Damian’s late brother right before his tragic death.
"Why do you care so much about a piece of paper, Mother?" Julian asked with a flawless, arrogant American accent. "We have money. Let Uncle Damian play house with the little brat."
Vivienne stopped pacing. She marched over to the boy, her eyes wide and frantic. "You idiot. Do you know what the Russo empire is? It’s not just bank accounts. It’s the ports. It’s the unions. It’s absolute control over this coast. Your father promised it to me. Damian stole it when he took over, and he’s trying to hand it to a stray he picked up from an orphanage!"
Julian rolled his eyes. "So what are we doing about it?"
Vivienne reached into her designer handbag and pulled out the folded pages she had stolen from Damian’s safe. She smoothed them out on the glass coffee table. "Damian is a traditionalist. The syndicate bosses will only follow a direct bloodline heir. Tomorrow night is the annual Founders Gala. The entire underworld will be wearing tuxedos and drinking champagne in the same room. I am going to introduce you to the families. And I am going to present these documents."
Julian looked at the papers. "What if Damian stops you?"
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Vivienne’s lips curled into a wicked, terrifying smile. "Damian will be entirely too distracted to attend the gala. I have a friend paying a visit to his precious little girl."
Her phone buzzed. She looked at the screen and smiled. It was a message from her inside man at the Russo estate. The security system is offline for three minutes. I'm going in.
