Chapter 5 - The Snake in Silk
By ten o'clock the next morning, the mansion was buzzing with artificial drama.
I sat in the breakfast parlor, dressed in a sharp charcoal three-piece suit, sipping black coffee. Vivien floated into the room wearing a silk robe of powder blue, her blonde hair falling in pristine waves over her shoulders. She looked breathtaking—an angel painted by Raphael, hiding the soul of a ghoul.
"Darling!" She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest as she entered. "Have you heard the dreadful news?"
"What news?" I asked, setting down the Wall Street Journal with effortless calm.
"Elena! She’s gone!" Vivien hurried over, resting her hands on the back of my chair, leaning down to press her cheek against mine. "The head housekeeper went to her room this morning. All her clothes are gone, Mia’s toys are cleared out, and the sterling silver service from the second dining room is missing!"
I closed my eyes for a second, masking the violent urge to snap her neck right then and there.
"Is that so?" I murmured.
"I told you, Lorenzo! I warned you last night!" Her voice was filled with frantic, self-righteous vindication. "The woman was dishonest. She knew I caught her slacking, and she panicked. She stole from you and fled before the sun rose. Oh, it breaks my heart... after everything your sweet mother did for her!"
"It’s a tragedy," I said, turning to look into her pale hazel eyes. "You have exceptional instincts, Vivien. You saw right through her."
A triumphant gleam flashed in her gaze, quickly masked by a sorrowful pout. "I only want to protect you, darling. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Shall I call the police? Report the theft?"
"No," I said smoothly. "Calling the police will attract journalists. The Duca name doesn't belong in the tabloids over a few pieces of silver. Let her run. If she ever comes back to New York, my men will handle it."
Vivien smiled warmly, clearly delighted that her primary threat had been eliminated without leaving a trace of suspicion on her hands. "You’re so wise. So practical."
"We have bigger things to celebrate," I continued, standing up and buttoning my jacket. "The engagement gala is this Friday. Four days away. I’ve decided to expand the guest list."
Vivien blinked, surprised. "Expand it? The venue is already near capacity, Lorenzo."
"I invited the Moretti syndicate. Carmine’s nephew, Julian."
Every muscle in Vivien’s face froze for a fraction of a second. The color drained from her lips, then rushed back in an awkward flush. "The... the Morettis? But darling, your family has been at war with them for decades. Why on earth would you invite Julian?"
"Because peace is good for business," I said, walking toward her, closing the distance until I stood inches from her face. I reached out and gently touched her throat, feeling the rapid, frantic flutter of her pulse beneath her carotid artery. She was terrified. "I want to show the entire city that when I take you as my wife, my power is absolute. No enemies left. Only allies, or corpses."
She swallowed hard against my fingers. "That’s... that’s ambitious, darling. Are you sure it’s safe?"
"With you by my side?" I leaned down and kissed her cheek, feeling the cold sweat beading on her skin. "I've never felt safer."
I stepped back, checking my gold wristwatch. "I have meetings in the financial district all day. Rocco has the security plans. Enjoy your day, Vivien. Buy whatever dress you want for Friday. Don't worry about the cost."
"I... I will. Thank you, Lorenzo."
As I walked out of the parlor, I signaled Rocco, who was waiting in the hallway. We walked out to the waiting limousine in the courtyard.
Once inside the tinted sanctuary of the car, Rocco handed me an encrypted tablet.
"The coroner finished the exhumation an hour ago," Rocco said grimly. "They took tissue samples from your mother’s remains."
"And?"
"Lethal concentrations of thallium sulfate in the bone marrow and hair follicles. It matches the chemical structure of an agricultural compound manufactured exclusively by Vance Chemical Enterprises in Burlington, Vermont."
I stared out the window as the massive wrought-iron gates of the estate swung open.
"She signed her own death warrant, Rocco."
"Julian Moretti accepted the invitation," Rocco added. "He thinks you’re desperate. He thinks the Morettis have you cornered politically and you’re offering the port terminals to buy an armistice. He’s bringing his top three capos with him."
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"Let them bring an army," I said, watching the city skyline rise before us. "They’re walking into a slaughterhouse, and Vivien is holding the front door open for them."
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