Chapter 5 - The Architect of Betrayal

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The name echoed in the quiet room like a gunshot.
Marco had been Vincent’s underboss and closest childhood friend for more than twenty-five years.
They had shared blood, built empires, and buried their enemies side by side in the concrete foundations of the city.
Vincent felt the blood drain from his face, replaced by a cold, predatory numbness.
Arabella struggled to sit up, but the pain in her abdomen caused her to cry out sharply.
“Stay still,” Vincent commanded, placing a gentle hand on her uninjured shoulder to keep her pinned to the bed.
“Do not move, Arabella.”
“You don't understand,” she whimpered, breathing through gritted teeth as the pain tore through her incisions.
“Yesterday afternoon... I went into the records vault to file the port logistics reports.”
“Marco was on the phone in the server room.”
“He was talking about a shipment coming into Pier 59 tonight.”
“He said you would be inspecting the container yourself, and that Moretti’s men should make sure you never walked back out.”
Vincent listened, every muscle in his body rigid as stone.
“Why didn't you come straight to me, Arabella?” he asked, his voice thick with raw agony.
“Why did you go down to the pier by yourself?”
Arabella looked at him, her hazel eyes glistening with unsphed tears.
“Because I knew you wouldn't believe me without absolute proof.”
“Marco was your brother.”
“If I walked into your office and accused your top lieutenant of treason, you would have thought I was paranoid or mistaken.”
“I had to get the hard drive from the harbor office before he could wipe the server logs.”
“You went alone to face armed killers for a hard drive?” Vincent demanded, his voice cracking with fury and disbelief.
“I went to save your life!” she cried out, her monitors beeping in frantic rhythm.
“Because you are blind when it comes to the people you love, Vincent!”
“You think loyalty is permanent, but in your world, loyalty has a price tag!”
She choked on a sob, clutching her stitched side with her free hand.
“When I got to the pier office, Marco’s men were already waiting.”
“They demanded the security cipher to your private bank vaults.”
“They told me if I gave them the cipher, they would let me walk away.”
Vincent leaned over her, his eyes burning with an inferno of rage.
“And what did you do?”
Arabella met his gaze, her chin trembling, but her gaze blazing with fierce defiance.
“I told them to go to hell.”
“I threw the cipher into the harbor.”
“And I hid the key in my coat so they couldn't access the secondary backup vault.”
Vincent stared at her, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of her courage.
A simple civilian woman, thirty-four years old, had endured torture and brutality to protect him.
She had taken a knife to the gut and broken ribs rather than hand over his life’s work to his enemies.
“You foolish, magnificent woman,” Vincent whispered, his throat tightening.
He brought her bruised hand to his lips and kissed each of her scraped knuckles with reverent tenderness.
“You should have let them take the money.”
“You should have let them burn down the whole damn city before taking a single blow for me.”
“I couldn't do that,” she whispered, her eyelids fluttering shut from exhaustion.
“Who would make your coffee?”
Vincent let out a broken, breathless chuckle that sounded half like a sob.
“Nobody, Arabella.”
“Nobody but you.”
The door clicked open, and Dominic stepped inside, his expression grim.
“Boss, Marco is downstairs.”
“He says he heard about the attack on Arabella and came to pay his respects.”
Vincent slowly released Arabella’s hand and stood up.
The tenderness in his face vanished instantly, replaced by the terrifying, merciless mask of the Don.
May you like
“Keep three guards inside this room,” Vincent instructed Dominic coldly.
“And tell Marco I am coming down to greet him.”