Chapter 3 - The Viper in the House
Downstairs in the kitchen, the marble countertops gleamed under the recessed lighting, but the warmth of a home had been replaced by a sterile, corporate chill. Sabrina Cole sat at the kitchen island, her long, manicured nails tapping rhythmically against the screen of her tablet. She was scrolling through a digital spreadsheet of asset valuations, her expression one of supreme, unbothered satisfaction.
The front door of the study clicked shut upstairs, followed by heavy, measured footsteps marching down the hallway.
Sabrina didn't look up immediately as Roman entered the kitchen. She assumed he was coming down for more coffee, or perhaps to complain about the lack of staff.
"Marco managed to hire a temporary agency for the housekeeping staff," Sabrina said smoothly, not lifting her eyes from the screen. "They'll be here tomorrow morning. Honestly, Roman, getting rid of those old servants was a blessing in disguise. They were too loyal to Elena. You needed a clean sweep anyway."
Roman didn't answer. He walked across the polished tile floor, his steps heavy, his face an impenetrable mask of dark granite. He stopped just on the other side of the island, staring down at Sabrina with an intensity so fierce it finally forced her to look up.
She blinked, her smile faltering slightly. "What? Is something wrong?"
"Where were you last Tuesday night?" Roman asked. His voice was terrifyingly calm—the exact tone he used right before destroying a competitor in a hostile takeover.
Sabrina’s eyebrows arched in mild irritation. "I was in the city, meeting with the PR team for the charity gala, just like I told you. Why are you looking at me like that?"
"And the Tuesday before that?"
"Roman, what is this? An interrogation? If you're stressed about Elena throwing her little tantrum, hire a lawyer and get the divorce papers drawn up. Stop taking it out on me." She stood up, smoothing the silk fabric of Elena’s robe against her hips with an air of absolute entitlement. "I'm going to take a bath. Let me know when you've calmed down."
She turned toward the hallway, but she didn't get two steps before Roman's voice cracked through the kitchen like a gunshot.
"Stop."
Sabrina froze. She turned back slowly, annoyance flashing in her eyes. "Excuse me?"
"You didn't go to a PR meeting last Tuesday," Roman said, walking around the island until he was standing just inches from her. He towered over her, his dark eyes locked onto hers with a predatory focus. "You went to the Swiss Bank branch on Peachtree Street. You met with an intermediary representing Victor Vance."
The color drained from Sabrina’s face so fast it looked as if she had been slapped. Her mouth parted slightly, but no words came out.
"You thought you were so clever," Roman continued softly, his voice dropping into a lethal whisper. "You thought because I was distracted by my own arrogance, because I let you into my house and into my bed, that you could slowly siphon my accounts, alter the corporate ledgers, and hand my entire empire over to the man who tried to put a bullet in my father's head twenty years ago."
"That's—that's insane!" Sabrina stammered, her voice pitching up in panic as she tried to regain her composure. "Roman, you're paranoid! Elena must have left some crazy, delusional note behind—she always hated me, she wanted to turn you against me—"
"Elena didn't write a delusional note," Roman interrupted, pulling the folded sheet of heavy stationery from his pocket and letting it drop onto the kitchen island between them. "She wrote an audit. She tracked every single wire transfer, every forged signature, and every secret meeting you had with Vance while you were pretending to be my loyal confidante."
Sabrina stared at the paper, her chest heaving as the panic fully took hold. The mask of calm sophistication shattered completely, revealing the desperate, cornered opportunist underneath.
"You can't prove anything," she hissed, her voice turning sharp and venomous. "Even if you freeze my accounts, Vance has the leverage. He has the political connections in the state senate. If you come after me, he will destroy everything you built, Roman! You'll be sitting in a federal penitentiary before the month is out!"
"Vance can't help you," Roman said, his jaw tightening until the muscles bulged. "Because as of ten minutes ago, my cybersecurity team executed a full override of the corporate servers, locked down every offshore routing number you touched, and forwarded your complete communication logs to the federal prosecutor's office."
May you like
Sabrina gasped, taking a sharp step backward until her spine hit the kitchen cabinets. "You... you didn't."
"Pack your things, Sabrina," Roman said, turning his back on her as he walked toward the door. "You have twenty minutes before Marco and his security team escort you off my property. If you ever breathe my name, or Elena's name, or my child's name again, federal prison will feel like a five-star resort compared to what I will do to you."
