Chapter 15
Vivienne Cross stood in the center of her sprawling Upper East Side penthouse, surrounded by half-packed designer luggage. Only forty-eight hours ago, she had been the undisputed queen of high society, commanding the ballroom in her crimson gown and blinding diamonds. Now, she was a disgraced exile, given until midnight to vacate the state of New York under the threat of federal prosecution. Her fair, rosy complexion was pale and drawn, haunted by the memory of Dominic Valerio's cold, steady eyes.
The silence of the penthouse was shattered by the sudden ringing of an encrypted burner phone sitting on the marble kitchen island. It wasn't a number she recognized.
Hesitantly, Vivienne picked it up. "Who is this?"
"Someone who shares a mutual enemy, Mrs. Cross," a smooth, mechanical voice replied over the line. "We represent the Chicago interests. We know what Dominic Valerio did to your family. We know he stripped you of your board seats, your voting shares, and your dignity."
Vivienne tightened her grip on the phone. "If you know that, then you know I have nothing left to give you. Valerio owns the hotel, the debt, the entire property. I am leaving New York."
"You don't have to leave," the voice coaxed smoothly. "Valerio is a relic. He thinks he can step back into the light after ten years and command the city through fear. But we are moving against him tonight at Pier 42. We need the biometric overrides for the shipping containers. The ones your family installed during your three-year management lease."
Vivienne froze. Her corporate attorney had warned her that Valerio possessed the power to liquidate her family's entire existence. But Chicago was offering her a weapon—a chance to strike back at the man who had humiliated her so completely at the charity gala.
"And if I give you the codes?" she asked, her voice trembling with a toxic mix of fear and lingering arrogance.
"We eliminate Valerio," the Chicago operative promised. "And when we take over the eastern territories, your family gets their forty percent operating equity back. You become the queen of New York once again."
May you like
Vivienne looked at the expensive artwork on her walls, the life she was being forced to abandon. The temptation was overwhelming. She walked over to her wall safe, her mind racing. "I have the codes on an encrypted drive. But I don't transmit them over the phone. You want them, you meet me in person."
"Very well. The Battery Park underground garage. Level four. One hour."
