Chapter 5 - The Bleeding Out of a TraitorBy evening, the illusion of Lucian’s power had completely evaporated.
The capos who had silently supported Lucian’s coup now lined up outside Damian’s private study, waiting to kiss the ring and pledge renewed, absolute loyalty to the true head of the Marchetti family. Damian handled them with cold, calculated efficiency, stripping away their regional privileges and placing their operations under strict oversight.
Down in the subterranean holding cells beneath the estate, the atmosphere was far less corporate.
Lucian sat handcuffed to a heavy metal chair in the center of a damp, dimly lit stone room. His expensive suit was wrinkled, his hair disheveled, and the arrogant smirk that had defined him for years was entirely gone, replaced by sweaty, desperate terror.
The heavy iron door swung open.
Damian stepped into the room, followed closely by Serena. He walked slowly toward Lucian, stopping just a few feet away, his dark eyes like shards of black ice.
“You ruined everything,” Lucian spat out, blood trickling from a split lip where one of the security enforcers had checked his attitude earlier. “Uncle Vittorio was losing his mind at the end! He was old! He didn't know how to run a modern syndicate!”
“My uncle built this empire with his bare hands while you were still spending his money on sports cars in Monaco,” Damian said coldly.
“What are you going to do?” Lucian laughed hysterically, his voice cracking. “Kill me? In the family basement? The commission won't stand for it!”
“I’m not going to kill you, Lucian,” Damian replied, his voice terrifyingly calm. “That would be too easy. Death is an escape.”
Damian turned to Serena, giving her a slight nod.
Serena stepped forward, holding a thick leather-bound dossier. She dropped it onto Lucian’s lap with a dull thud.
“Every offshore account you opened under a pseudonym has been frozen by international maritime courts,” Serena stated, her voice devoid of any emotion. “Every real estate asset you purchased in Bellamere and Europe has been seized under RICO forfeiture laws due to your collusion with Apex Capital. Legally, financially, and socially... you don't exist anymore.”
Lucian looked down at the dossier in horror. “You... you stripped me of everything. I’m broke.”
“Worse than broke,” Damian added, leaning down until his face was inches from Lucian’s. “You’re a liability. And in our world, liabilities get erased.”
Damian motioned to the two armed enforcers standing by the door. “Put him on a cargo freighter heading out of the Bellamere port tonight. No money, no passport, no phone. Drop him off in a country where he doesn't speak the language and has no contacts. Let’s see how long my brilliant cousin survives in the real world without a silver spoon.”
“No! Please, Damian! Serena! Don't do this!” Lucian screamed as the enforcers hauled him out of the chair, dragging him kicking and screaming toward the iron doors.
The heavy door slammed shut, cutting off his cries.
The subterranean room fell into a heavy, profound silence.
Damian let out a long, slow breath, the tension of the past month finally draining from his broad shoulders. He turned his head to look at Serena.
She stood quietly in the dim light, looking composed, elegant, and utterly unshakeable.
Damian reached out, gently removing her tortoiseshell glasses and setting them aside on a nearby crate. He reached up, cupping her face with his warm, calloused palm, his thumb brushing softly against her cheekbone.
“You terrified every man in that conference room today,” Damian murmured, a rare, breathtaking smile breaking through his stern facade.
May you like
Serena’s gray-green eyes softened, a faint blush warming her cheeks. “I merely stated the facts, Mr. Vescari.”
“Call me Damian,” he whispered, leaning down and pressing his lips softly against hers.
