Chapter 4 - The Traitor's SmileThe skirmish lasted less than seven minutes, but it left the grand study looking like a battlefield. Five of Salvatore’s enforcers lay dead among the shattered glass and expensive rugs. The rest had retreated into the sprawling gardens, realizing too late that Vincent had anticipated the attack and deliberately left the perimeter lightly guarded to draw them into a fatal bottleneck.
Leo dragged a bleeding, groggy survivor across the threshold and dumped him at Vincent’s feet.
The man looked up, shaking with terror as he stared at the wheelchair, then up at Vincent’s cold, unblinking face.
"Who sent you?" Vincent asked softly, rolling his chair forward until the black metal wheels stopped inches from the man's face.
"F-Fuck you," the enforcer spat, blood bubbling from his lip. "Salvatore owns the docks. He owns the council. You're finished, Bellandi! Your legs don't work, and soon your heart won't either!"
Vincent didn't raise his voice. He didn't lose his temper. He simply looked at Leo.
"Take him outside. Feed him to the hounds. And send a message to Marco Salvatore."
"What message, Boss?" Leo asked, hauling the screaming man up by his collar.
"Tell him his wedding present is ready."
As Leo dragged the man away, the heavy silence of the night settled back over the mansion. Anna stood by the window, her hands still gripping the hunting rifle, her breath pluming in the cold air as the shattered glass let the winter wind howl inside.
Vincent wheeled himself over to her side. He reached out, his large, warm hand gently covering hers on the stock of the rifle. Slowly, carefully, he applied pressure until her fingers uncurled.
"You were magnificent," Vincent said quietly.
Anna turned to look at him, her heart still hammering against her ribs. "You planned this. You knew they were coming tonight."
"I knew they were getting desperate," Vincent corrected. "I didn't know they were stupid enough to attack the estate directly. But they played their hand. Now, we play ours."
"What does Marco want?" Anna asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Beyond your throne. Why is he so obsessed with destroying you?"
Vincent’s jaw tightened, the faint scar standing out starkly against his skin.
"Because six months ago, when my car went off the cliff, Marco wasn't just trying to kill a crime boss," Vincent said, his voice dropping into a register so dark it sent a chill down Anna's spine. "He was trying to cover up a theft. A theft that my father died protecting, and one that connects directly... to your family."
Anna froze. The room seemed to tilt beneath her feet.
"My... my family?" she choked out. "What does my father have to do with the Bellandi syndicate?"
Before Vincent could answer, his phone buzzed violently on the desk. He glanced at the screen, and for the first time since Anna had met him, a flash of genuine, unfiltered shock crossed his face.
May you like
He looked up at Anna, his gray eyes wide and dark.
"Your father just escaped from his safehouse," Vincent said slowly. "And he didn't run to the police, Anna. He went straight to Marco Salvatore."
