Chapter 6 - The Long Game
“Surprised?” Viktor’s voice dripped with mock sympathy as he rested his hand gently on Claire’s shoulder. “You thought you bought yourself a trophy wife from an art gallery, Daniel. You thought you tamed the wild bird and put her in a golden cage in your penthouse.”
My grip on the pistol tightened until my knuckles turned stark white. My eyes snapped from Viktor to Claire. Her face was an impassive mask of cold marble.
“Tell me this is a lie,” I choked out, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “Claire... tell me he’s lying.”
Claire looked down at me from the top of the staircase, her dark eyes completely hollow. “Viktor isn't lying, Daniel. We’ve been playing this game since before you and I ever crossed paths at that charity auction. You were so busy counting your warehouses and threatening your rivals that you never bothered to check who owned the real estate holding company that funded your very first million-dollar startup.”
A cold sweat broke out across my forehead. “Alcyone.”
“Alcyone,” Claire confirmed softly. “My family built that empire, Daniel. Your mentor, old man Moretti, didn't just hand you your territory on a silver platter. He stole it from my father twenty-five years ago. Viktor and I spent the last six years meticulously, legally, and systematically buying back every single brick of it.”
“And the baby?” My voice cracked, the raw agony piercing through my hardened enforcer exterior. “Is that a lie too?”
Claire’s hand tightened instinctively over her stomach, and for a fleeting second, a flicker of genuine human emotion—pain, perhaps, or hesitation—flashed across her features before she locked it away.
“The baby is mine,” Viktor answered smoothly, stepping forward so he stood slightly in front of her. “And she will be raised in a home where her father doesn't spend his nights sleeping with informants and smelling like cheap perfume on Milwaukee Avenue.”
Behind me, Michael Reed shifted his weight, his grip tightening on his shotgun. “Boss, say the word and I drop them both right here.”
“Don't you dare,” I snarled without taking my eyes off Claire.
Before Michael could react, the heavy oak doors behind us flew open with a deafening crash. A dozen armed men clad in tactical black gear poured into the foyer, their laser sights painting red dots across Michael’s chest and mine.
May you like
“Drop the weapons, gentlemen,” a sharp, icy voice echoed from the doorway.
Evelyn Vance stepped into the foyer, flanked by heavy enforcers. She adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses, looking down at us with absolute disdain. “You really thought you could walk into my brother’s house uninvited, Daniel? Your empire has been bleeding out for three months, and tonight is the amputation.”
