Chapter 10 - THE SNAKE ENTERS THE GARDEN
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Victor Moretti walked into the office with the effortless authority of a man who believed he owned the world.
His silver hair was combed back immaculately, and his diamond pinky ring caught the amber light of the chandelier.
“Vanessa, my dear, why are you crying?” Victor asked, looking between the woman and his nephew with feigned concern.
“Luca, put that weapon away; we don't draw iron inside this house, you know your father's rules.”
Luca didn't lower his gun; instead, the barrel pivoted slowly until it was aimed squarely at his uncle’s chest.
Victor stopped walking, his smile fading into a look of mild amusement.
“What is the meaning of this disrespect, nephew?”
“Have you lost your senses entirely?”
I stood near the bookshelves, watching the two men with my heart pounding against my ribs like a hammer.
Then, my gaze dropped down to Victor’s footwear.
His expensive Italian leather loafers were splattered with fresh, dark gray silt along the welt.
It was the distinct industrial mud found only near the shipping docks along the Calumet River.
He hadn't been asleep at his estate across town; he had just come directly from the grain silos.
“You’re out late, Uncle Victor,” Luca said, his voice flat and deceptively calm.
“I was reviewing the shipping manifests at the downtown terminal,” Victor lied effortlessly, leaning lightly on his cane.
“Then my security team alerted me that you had placed the compound under full military lockdown.”
“I came to ensure my family was safe.”
Arthur rose slowly to his feet, holding onto the edge of the desk to support his trembling frame.
“You were never family, Victor,” the old butler said, his voice ringing with a strength I hadn't expected.
“You were a jealous parasite who waited fifty years to stick a knife in your brother's back.”
Victor’s eyes narrowed into slits, flashing with contempt as he looked at the elderly servant.
“Quiet, Arthur,” Victor snapped.
“You’ve forgotten your station in this household.”
“You’re a servant, and you speak only when an owner permits you to breathe.”
Luca took one step out from behind the mahogany desk, the shadow of his towering frame consuming his uncle.
“Arthur is more of a Moretti than you will ever be,” Luca declared, his voice trembling with pure, unadulterated rage.
“He loved my father while you poisoned his tea.”
Victor let out a soft sigh, realizing the game of pretend was rapidly unraveling.
He glanced at Vanessa, whose mascara was running down her cheeks in dark, frantic streaks.
“Did you open your mouth, you foolish girl?” Victor asked her, his voice devoid of any warmth.
Vanessa shook her head frantically, holding up the glowing burner phone.
“It doesn't matter what they know, Victor!” she screamed.
“I still have the butler’s granddaughter!”
“Tell Dante to kill the girl right now and let’s get out of here before his guards figure it out!”
Victor’s face twisted into an ugly, cold grimace as he realized his grand conspiracy had collapsed into a chaotic mess.
“You always were too loud for your own good, Vanessa,” Victor muttered.
May you like
Then, with surprising speed for a sixty-year-old man, Victor twisted the silver handle of his walking cane.
A gleaming six-inch steel blade sprang out from the polished wood, catching the desk light with a deadly glint.
