Chapter 2 - THE BLOOD DEBT
The terrace fell into an uncomfortable, absolute stillness.
Rebecca felt her breath hitch in her throat. Her head spun so violently she had to hold onto a stone pillar to keep from falling. “What... what did you say?” she whispered.
Adriano took a step toward her, his hands raised in a gesture of total surrender. “Three years ago, I was ambushed on Route 9 by a rival faction. My car rolled over into a ditch. I was pinned inside, bleeding out, while the vehicle burned.”
He closed his eyes, relief and torment tearing through his face. “A tow truck driver stopped. He didn't know who I was. He didn't care about the mob or the money. He pulled out a crowbar, smashed my door open, and dragged my broken body up the embankment just seconds before the gas tank exploded.”
Rebecca’s hands flew to her mouth. Tears overflowed her eyes, washing away the pool water on her cheeks. “Thomas...”
“Thomas saved my life,” Adriano continued, his tone deadly earnest. “But as he went back to grab his phone from his truck to call an ambulance, a dark SUV pulled up. They fired shots into the dark to finish me off. A stray bullet caught Thomas in the chest.”
The crowd gasped. Several women covered their mouths in horror.
“I woke up in a private clinic three weeks later,” Adriano said, his voice dropping into a guttural growl as he locked eyes with Genevieve. “My lieutenants—and Genevieve’s family, the Moretti family—told me that the man who saved me was named Thomas Hail. But when I ordered them to bring me his family so I could give them half of everything I owned... Genevieve told me that his wife and daughter were in the passenger seat and died instantly in the explosion.”
Genevieve stammered, backing toward the glass doors of the mansion. “Adriano! It was a mistake! Julian told me they were dead! He was trying to protect you from getting involved with civilians!”
“You lied to me,” Adriano said, his eyes darkening into something monstrous. “You made me believe I was responsible for erasing an entire family from the earth. And then... you hired his surviving wife as a servant in my house and let her clean up after you?”
“She... she applied through an agency!” Genevieve cried, her voice cracking with desperation. “I didn't know it was her until a few months ago! I was going to fire her, I swear!”
“You didn't fire her,” Rebecca spoke up suddenly, her voice remarkably clear despite her shaking body. “You kept me here. You made me sleep in the unheated pantry room. You made me scrub the floors on my hands and knees while you called me names.”
Rebecca looked straight into Genevieve’s eyes, all fear vanishing from her soul, replaced by the white-hot fury of a widow who had been tormented for years.
“You knew,” Rebecca said softly. “You knew Thomas gave his life for your husband, and you wanted to break me so I would never find out.”
Adriano looked at Genevieve like she was a demon. He slowly pulled a heavy golden signet ring off his finger—the ring that marked him as the head of the Falcone syndicate—and threw it onto the marble floor at Genevieve’s feet.
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“The marriage is over,” Adriano said coldly. “The alliance with the Moretti family is dead.”
He turned to his head of security, a massive, scarred man named Marco who stood near the gates. “Marco. Lock the estate gates. No one leaves. Call Julian Moretti. Tell him to come pick up his sister... and bring his ledger.”
