Chapter 4 - The Confrontation at the GatesThe double mahogany entrance doors of the DeLuca estate swung wide open.
Vincent DeLuca walked out onto the stone terrace, wearing an magnificent charcoal bespoke suit, his tall six-foot-five frame radiating an unshakeable, sovereign authority. Flanking him were Marcus Vance and twelve armed DeLuca security officers.
And walking right beside Vincent, wearing a breathtaking dark navy silk gown that celebrated my tall, graceful figure, holding my mother's silver wolf pendant openly around my neck, was me.
Dominic Russo stopped dead in his tracks on the driveway, his bloodshot eyes widening in utter, speech-bound shock as he looked from my face to the silver crest gleaming in the autumn sun.
"WHAT IS THIS, DELUCA?!" Dominic roared, his voice rough and booming across the courtyard. "You're keeping a Russo maid in your house?! Hand her over! Antonio’s legal team has issued an emergency summons for her presence!"
Vincent didn't take a step back. He stepped in front of me, his broad shoulders casting a protective shadow over my frame, looking down at Dominic with an absolute, weightless disgust that dropped the courtyard's temperature to freezing.
"She isn't a maid, Dominic," Vincent announced flatly, his deep baritone carrying cleanly through the crisp afternoon air. "She is Emma Russo-Hayes, sole legitimate beneficiary of the Russo Family Trust. And she is under my direct, sovereign protection."
Dominic thrashed his hands frantically, taking two angry steps forward. "THAT TRUST BELONGS TO THE SOUTH SIDE NETWORK! She's a nobody from Indiana! She signed no papers!"
I stepped out from behind Vincent's protective shoulder, my posture tall, unbending, and sovereign, looking straight into Dominic's sweating face.
"I signed the formal trust activation papers two hours ago, Dominic," I stated, my clear, velvet voice cutting cleanly through the quiet courtyard. "With the full backing of federal probate judges and the DeLuca legal network. As of twelve o'clock today, all corporate bank accounts, shipping docks, and casino leases registered under the Russo Trust are frozen pending my personal executive audit."
Dominic went dead white. The color drained completely from his face as he realized his multi-million-dollar corporate coup had been shattered into pieces by the girl he had tried to erase.
"YOU CRAZY BITCH!" Dominic shrieked, reaching his hand toward his shoulder holster. "I'LL KILL YOU RIGHT HERE!"
CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.
Before Dominic's fingers could even touch his jacket, twelve red laser sights from DeLuca roof snipers painted dark circles directly across Dominic's chest and forehead.
Vincent took one slow, deliberate step down the stone stairs, leaning down into Dominic's face with an icy, frozen register that made the ruthless lieutenant tremble like a leaf in a storm:
May you like
"If you ever step foot on my property again, Dominic," Vincent whispered, "I won't call the probate court. I will feed you to the fish in Lake Michigan."
Dominic thrashed backward in pure, pathetic terror, scrambling into his sedan, his convoy spinning their tires in the gravel as they fled the estate in total, public disgrace.
Related Stories
