Chapter 7 - The Reckoning
By midnight, the storm had cleared, leaving Chicago beneath a cold, merciless sky.
In the master suite of the Ashford mansion, Margaret and Sienna were celebrating over a bottle of vintage champagne.
"Julian’s father just confirmed our reservation in Paris," Sienna giggled, swirling her glass. "The Marchetti family hasn't called once. They’re so distracted by their turf war with the Morettis that they’ve completely forgotten about us."
"I told you," Margaret smiled smugly, leaning back on her velvet sofa. "Calculated risks always pay off. Maeve is keeping Elias occupied, Patrick got his surgery, and our family name is untouched."
Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the Ashford mansion exploded open downstairs with a thunderous BOOM!
Screams echoed from the servants below! Glass shattered, heavy boots stomped across the marble foyer, and within seconds, six armed men in charcoal suits surrounded the sunroom!
Sienna dropped her champagne glass, it shattering across the hardwood floor! "What is the meaning of this?!"
Margaret stood up, her face pale with fury. "Who gave you permission to enter my home?!"
The armed guards parted.
Stepping into the room, dressed in a tailored charcoal coat, his face cold, lethal, and imposing, was Elias Marchetti.
He walked with long, confident, powerful strides—his broad shoulders square, his posture magnificent, his left leg completely uninjured.
Sienna’s breath hitched in her throat. She stumbled backward against the couch, her eyes bulging out of her head. "Elias...? You... you're walking?!"
Margaret gasped, clutching her throat in pure, unadulterated horror. "How... how is this possible?! The doctors said—"
"The doctors said what I paid them to say, Margaret," Elias said, his voice terrifyingly quiet, dropping into the room like a heavy stone.
He stepped toward them, his dark eyes sweeping over Sienna in her silk lounge dress and Margaret in her pearls. The black onyx ring on his right hand caught the chandelier light.
"You... you lied?" Sienna stammered, her voice high and panicked. She looked at his strong, magnificent body, at the power vibrating off him, at the absolute dominance he displayed in the room.
Regret—instant, suffocating, overwhelming regret—slammed into Sienna’s chest like a sledgehammer. He wasn't broken. He wasn't a cripple. He was richer, stronger, and more lethal than ever.
"Elias!" Sienna shrieked, rushing forward, her face instantly twisting into a fake, desperate smile as she reached for his arm. "Elias, oh my god! It’s a miracle! You're healed!"
Elias didn't even look at her. He caught her arm mid-air, his grip like a steel vise, holding her three feet away from him.
"Don't touch me, Sienna," Elias said coldly.
"Elias, please!" Sienna cried, tears of desperate greed filling her eyes. "I was confused! My mother forced me to step away! She brought Maeve into this! I loved you! I always loved you! Let me come back to the estate! We can be married properly!"
Elias released her arm with such disgust that Sienna stumbled onto the rug.
"You didn't love me when I sat in a chair, Sienna," Elias spat, his eyes filled with pure contempt. "You loved the Don. You loved the money. And the moment you thought I was broken, you threw my ring on a kitchen counter and said you wouldn't spend your life pushing my wheelchair."
Margaret’s face drained of every drop of color. "You... you heard?"
"I hear everything in this city, Margaret," Elias growled.
He pulled a thick, black leather folder from inside his coat and tossed it onto the glass coffee table.
"As of eleven o'clock tonight," Elias announced smoothly, "the Marchetti family has acquired ninety-two percent of your logistics firm's outstanding debt. I have seized your mansion, your vehicles, your bank accounts, and your line of credit. You have two hours to pack one suitcase each and vacate my property."
"You can't do this!" Margaret screamed, her voice cracking in hysterical fury. "This is our family home!"
"This is my property," Elias corrected coldly. "If either of you ever steps foot in this city again, or if you ever approach Maeve Donnelly again, I will have Gabriel put you on a cargo ship to South America with no passports."
Sienna dropped to her knees on the floor, weeping hysterically, clutching the hem of his coat. "Elias, please! I'll do anything! I'll be your wife! Don't ruin us!"
Elias looked down at her with absolute disgust, pulling his coat away from her fingers.
"You are nothing to me, Sienna," Elias said flatly. "You never were."
He turned on his heel and walked out of the mansion, leaving the Ashford women sobbing in the ruins of their own greed.
Elias stepped into the cold night air, where Gabriel was waiting beside the armored SUV.
"Where is she, Gabriel?" Elias asked, his voice tight with raw anxiety.
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"We tracked her to St. Jude’s Hospital, Boss," Gabriel reported softly. "She’s sitting in her brother Patrick’s room."
Elias took a deep breath, looking up at the dark Chicago sky. "Drive."
