Chapter 4 - The Traitor's TrapVictor’s hand froze over the notepad. His condescending smile fractured into tiny, confused pieces as he looked up at Vincent.
"Vincent... what is the meaning of this?" Victor asked loudly, stepping up from his chair, pointing a trembling finger at the paper. "We have twenty million dollars in commercial cargo waiting at Pier 14! You can't just close the docks!"
Vincent didn't write a reply. He stood up slowly from his seat at the head of the table.
His six-foot-four frame towered over the dining room, throwing a vast, intimidating shadow across the marble floorboards. He buttoned his suit jacket with effortless grace, stepping around the table until he stood two inches from Victor’s pale face.
Vincent reached out, his long, broad fingers gently picking up Victor’s crystal espresso cup from the tablecloth.
He held the cup high in the air... and released his grip.
CRASH!
The crystal cup shattered against the marble floorboards, spilling black liquid across Victor’s expensive leather shoes.
Victor jumped backward in sudden, disoriented shock. "Are you insane?! Look at what you've done!"
Vincent didn't look at the mess. He leaned down, his face inches from Victor's ear, his breath hot, cold, and absolute.
"You should have bought a stronger bug, Uncle," Vincent spoke aloud.
His voice—deep, smooth, and laced with a lethal, terrifying clarity—boomed through the quiet dining room like a thunderclap.
The entire room went dead, breathless silent.
The six lieutenants jumped out of their chairs, their eyes bulging out of their heads in total, horror-stricken shock as they stared at the Don who was supposed to be completely deaf.
Victor’s face went paper-white. Sweat poured down his temples, ruining his stiff linen collar, as his knees buckled beneath him.
"You... you can hear...?" Victor stammered out, his voice cracking into a high, pathetic squeak. "No... no, that's impossible! Dr. Aris said the nerve damage was permanent!"
"Dr. Aris was arrested at six o'clock this morning by the State Police," I stated smoothly, stepping up beside Vincent, holding open a red legal folder containing certified bank receipts. "Along with your primary financial proxies in the Cayman Islands."
May you like
Victor turned his terrified eyes onto me, realizing in a single, apocalyptic second that the "nameless maid" he had mocked five minutes ago had just dismantled his entire ten-year conspiracy.
"Guards!" Victor shrieked frantically, reaching toward his jacket for a sidearm. "GUARDS! KILL THEM!"
Related Stories
