flash
THE POOR MAID’S TODDLER FOUND THE MAFIA BOSS TIED BENEATH HIS OWN MANSION—THEN ONE MISSING BUTTON EXPOSED THE TRAITOR / Chapter 7 / 10

Chapter 7 - THE MISSING BUTTONVincent’s hand trembled slightly as he gripped the handle of his concealed pistol, but before he could pull it clear, Lorenzo moved with terrifying, blinding speed.

In a fraction of a second, Lorenzo slammed his heavy palm down onto the mahogany desk, crushing Vincent’s fingers against the wood with a sickening crunch. Vincent shrieked in agony, his gun sliding out of his limp hand and skittering across the floor.

“Ahhh! You insane—!” Vincent screamed, clutching his mangled hand to his chest, falling backward out of the chair.

Lorenzo stood over him, towering like an executioner. He didn't strike him again. Instead, he reached down with two fingers and firmly grasped the lapel of Vincent’s pristine charcoal suit.

With a sharp jerk, Lorenzo ripped a small, unique pewter button right off the jacket.

“Recognize this, Vincent?” Lorenzo asked coldly, holding the button up to the dim light.

Vincent’s eyes widened in sheer terror. He stared at the button, then down at his jacket, where the thread was visibly frayed.

“You dropped this two weeks ago during our ‘meeting’ at the warehouse,” Lorenzo whispered, his voice dangerously soft. “The night my safe was cracked. The night my signature stamp was stolen. You thought you left it in the heat of battle, didn't you? But I found it wedged in the floorboards. I knew right then that my most trusted lieutenant had turned into a rat.”

“I-I was just protecting my interests!” Vincent stammered, backing away until his spine hit the mahogany bookshelf, his face slick with cold sweat. “The syndicate offered me the entire European shipping network! You were getting old, Lorenzo! You were losing your edge!”

“My edge?” Lorenzo let out a harsh, dark laugh. “I built this empire with my bare hands while you were still running errands for street thugs.”

Before Vincent could beg for mercy, heavy boots thundered down the grand staircase.

May you like

The heavy mahogany door of the dressing room seemed to close in on us, trapping the suffocating tension inside. Richard’s hands were shaking as he clutched the small, tarnished silver pendant. His knuckles were bone-white.

The heavy mahogany door of the dressing room seemed to close in on us, t...

The heavy silver fork slipped from my fingers, clattering sharply against the gold-rimmed porcelain of my dinner plate.

The heavy silver fork slipped from my fingers, clattering sharply agains...

The heavy mahogany door of the Fairmont Copley suite clicked shut with a muffled, expensive thud.

The heavy mahogany door of the Fairmont Copley suite clicked shut with a...

It wasn't Vincent’s mercenaries.

It was Mateo. And behind him stood a dozen heavily armed loyal enforcers of the Duca inner circle, their weapons raised and ready.

Share

X Facebook Reddit LinkedIn WhatsApp Telegram Email

Other posts

Vanessa’s eyes were dry, clear, and sharp. She looked around the library as if measuring the dimensions for a redesign.

Jul 06, 2026

Vanessa’s eyes were dry, clear, and sharp. She looked around the library as if measuring t...

The silence that followed Bella Langford’s arrival on the terrace did not feel like shock. It felt like calculation.

Jun 25, 2026

The silence that followed Bella Langford’s arrival on the terrace did not feel like shock....

The coffee had gone completely cold, but I didn't pour it out. I wrapped both hands around the heavy ceramic mug, feeling the chill sink straight into my palms. Thirty-two years. Thirty-two years of sleeping beside a man who had mastered the art of the long, slow lie.

Jul 27, 2026

The coffee had gone completely cold, but I didn't pour it out. I wrapped both hands around...

The silence in the twenty-third-floor apartment was no longer quiet. It had weight. It pressed against Sarah’s eardrums, heavy with the realization that the man she had loved for seven years and the woman she had trusted for twelve had built a cage of lies around her.

Jul 31, 2026

The silence in the twenty-third-floor apartment was no longer quiet. It had weight. It pre...

The last syllable of Khloe’s toast hung in the air, tasting of sour champagne and reckless vanity. Six hundred people—investors, philanthropists, board members, and society columnists—held their collective breath. They had come to celebrate the annual Founders’ Gala for Hayes Dynamics, anticipating a pleasant evening of quiet networking and charitable donations. Instead, they had just witnessed a public execution of professional etiquette.

Jun 25, 2026

The last syllable of Khloe’s toast hung in the air, tasting of sour champagne and reckless...

The silence in the room stretched thin, like a wire pulled to its breaking point.

Aug 18, 2026

The silence in the room stretched thin, like a wire pulled to its breaking point.

Alexander pulled a sleek, heavy titanium card from his inner pocket and tossed it onto the ivory tablecloth. It clattered against the crystal water glass, sliding to a halt inches from the restored silver cuff link box.

Jul 10, 2026

Alexander pulled a sleek, heavy titanium card from his inner pocket and tossed it onto the...

The silence that followed Victor’s words in the kitchen was not empty. It hummed with the suffocating weight of a decade built on sand.

Aug 01, 2026

The silence that followed Victor’s words in the kitchen was not empty. It hummed with the...