Chapter 5 - The Eve of the Execution
By midnight, the storm outside had broken, lashing heavy sheets of rain against the tall glass windows of the master suite.
Downstairs, the front door unlatched.
Footsteps clicked lightly across the marble foyer. Soft, expensive perfume preceded Arya as she drifted up the grand staircase, humming softly to herself. She pushed open the bedroom door, expecting to find me dead to the world under the influence of the evening sedative Tessa was supposed to have administered.
She stopped in her tracks when she saw the overhead lights on.
I was sitting propped up against the pillows, the laptop closed beside me, my expression a mask of impenetrable granite.
Arya blinked, quickly smoothing down her silk evening wrap, her professional mask sliding back into place with practiced ease.
“Vincent? You’re still awake?” she asked, stepping over to the bed and leaning down to offer a cold, perfunctory kiss to my cheek that smelled faintly of champagne and expensive restaurant food. “You should be resting. The wedding is only twelve weeks away, and we have so much to finalize.”
“Were you at the dress boutique until midnight, Arya?” I asked quietly, my voice entirely devoid of emotion.
She paused, her hand hovering over the lapel of her coat. A tiny flicker of unease crossed her eyes before she smiled, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.
“Of course, darling. Alterations take forever. Dominic drove me back.”
“Dominic,” I repeated, tilting my head. “How thoughtful of him. My cousin really does go above and beyond to take care of our family’s interests.”
Arya’s smile tightened slightly. She didn't like the tone in my voice. She could sense something had shifted—that the broken, helpless man she had mentally written off three days ago was looking at her through a very different lens.
“You’re exhausted, Vincent,” she said, turning toward the adjoining bathroom. “Let me help you change. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day. Dominic has scheduled a special executive briefing at the downtown headquarters to announce the new restructuring plan for the shipping lanes. You wanted the company to stay strong, didn't you?”
“Yes, Arya,” I said, watching her silhouette disappear behind the frosted glass door of the bathroom as the shower began to run. “I want the company to stay very strong.”
I reached down under the edge of the mattress, my fingers brushing against the cold steel handle of the 9mm Sig Sauer I kept tucked in the concealed holster behind the headboard.
Tomorrow morning at nine sharp, the board was going to hold its quarterly meeting.
And I was going to be there to chair it—whether my legs worked or not.
Suddenly, the bedroom door clicked open again.
It wasn't Arya coming out of the bathroom.
May you like
It was Tessa, slipping back into the room through the main hallway entrance with a grim, pale look on her face, holding her phone out toward me with a shaking hand.
“Mr. Corvino,” she whispered, her voice trembling for the first time since I met her. “You need to look at this right now. Dominic didn't just clear your Cayman accounts... he just filed an emergency psychiatric incapacitation petition with the county court twenty minutes ago.”
