Chapter 4 - The Confession at Breakfast
The morning sun casts a pale, freezing light across the breakfast terrace. The long marble table, usually groaning under the weight of an extravagant feast, holds only black coffee and chilled water.
Bernadette sits at the far end, looking immaculate in a cream designer silk dress, her makeup expertly covering the fading bruise on her cheek. Felix sits beside her, silent, picking listlessly at his pastries.
Luciano enters, flanked by Marco and two armed guards who take positions by the arched glass doors. He doesn't sit. He walks to the head of the table, places both hands on the cool marble, and looks down at his wife.
“Pack your bags, Bernadette,” Luciano says flatly.
Bernadette drops her silver fork with a sharp clatter. She stands up, her eyes flashing with indignant fury. “Are you out of your mind? You’ll throw me out? Over a peasant brat and a lost toy? My father will pull every single dock worker out of your ports by noon tomorrow. You’ll be ruined!”
“Your father’s docks have been under federal investigation for money laundering for the past six months,” Luciano replies smoothly, pulling a thick stack of documents from his jacket and tossing them across the table. They slide and scatter across her plate. “And thanks to the hard drives Marco pulled from your private study last night, we know you’ve been funneling Venturi family capital into your brother’s failing real estate schemes.”
Bernadette’s face drains of all color. The haughty facade cracks, revealing the desperate panic underneath. She looks down at the papers—signed contracts, offshore bank statements, and email transcripts detailing her plot to poison Luciano’s morning tea with slow-acting digitalis over the next three months.
“You... you hacked my server?” she whispers, her voice trembling.
“You forgot who taught you how to launder money, my love,” Luciano leans in close, his voice a low, venomous hiss. “You thought because I gave you a title, I became soft. You forgot that I built this empire on blood and silence.”
Felix starts to cry, burying his face in his mother’s silk sleeve. “Mommy, make him stop! Make him stop!”
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Bernadette glares at Luciano with pure, unadulterated hatred. “You think you’ve won? You think my family will just let you cast me aside? Julian is already moving on the primary Swiss vaults. By sunset, you’ll be bankrupt.”
“Julian isn’t moving anywhere,” Luciano says with a chilling smile. “Marco, bring him in.”
