Chapter 5 - The Cameras Roll
|
The three documentary cameras, operated by Priya and her crew, were still rolling. The red lights blinked rhythmically, capturing the unravelling of Boston's most celebrated designer.
"Her sister?" Rafe asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
"Eleanor Ror," Sabine spat, losing her composure entirely. "A pathetic intern who thought she could claim my reverse-beading technique as her own. I dealt with her, and now her little sister is trying to ruin my foundation gala!"
Billy didn't yell. She didn't scream. She simply reached into the deep pocket of her ruined uniform apron with her uninjured hand.
She pulled out a small, waterproof digital recorder. She had worn it strapped to her waist every single shift for nine months.
"You didn't just deal with her, Sabine," Billy said, her voice echoing clearly into the microphone clipped to Sabine’s dress for the documentary. "You had her killed."
The ballroom erupted into chaotic murmurs.
"You're insane!" Sabine shrieked, lunging toward Billy.
Rafe moved faster than anyone anticipated. He stepped smoothly between them, grabbing Sabine’s wrist with terrifying, bone-crushing strength.
"Do not touch her," Rafe warned, his dark eyes flashing with pure, unadulterated menace.
He looked back at Billy. "You are making a very serious accusation, Miss Ror. In my house."
"I am accusing the woman you plan to marry of using your logistics trucks to run my sister off the road five years ago," Billy stated, staring the mafia boss dead in the eye. "And I am accusing you of covering it up."
The two massive men in dark coats behind Rafe instantly reached for the weapons concealed beneath their jackets.
Rafe held up a single hand, stopping them.
"You think I ordered a hit on an intern over a dress?" Rafe asked, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent chills down Billy’s spine.
"I think you gave Sabine access to your resources," Billy replied firmly. "I have the license plate of the truck that hit Eleanor. It belongs to a Santangelo Logistics shell company. The same truck that delivers the waste bins to this hotel every morning."
May you like
Rafe’s jaw tightened. He looked at Sabine, who was visibly trembling now, struggling against his grip.
"Is this true, Sabine?" Rafe demanded, his voice entirely devoid of the affection a man should hold for his fiancée.
