Chapter 5 - The Snake in the Grass
|
While peace returned to the Caruso mansion, a storm was gathering in a penthouse suite across Manhattan.
Vivienne Hart threw her glass of expensive champagne against the marble fireplace, sending shards of crystal exploding across the hearth.
“He threw me out!” she screamed at her father, who sat calmly in a leather armchair smoking a cigar. “He humiliated me in front of the servants! All for some trashy maid and her brat!”
Arthur Hart, a burly man with silver hair and a ruthless streak of his own, puffed on his cigar slowly.
“Nicholas Caruso is not a man you play games with, Vivienne,” the elder Hart warned. “I told you to be patient. Once you were married, you would have controlled half his legitimate assets.”
“I don't want to wait!” Vivienne snarled, pacing the floor. “He ruined my reputation! The papers are already calling the wedding off! I want him destroyed, Dad. I want that maid dragged through the mud!”
Hart smiled grimly. “You’re in luck, daughter. It turns out your little housekeeper isn't just a Nobody.”
Vivienne paused, her eyes flashing with cruel interest. “What do you mean?”
“My contacts in New Jersey tell me that Hector Vance has been hunting for a woman matching Maria Santos’s description for almost a year,” Hart said, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Apparently, she stole something very valuable from him before she vanished.”
Vivienne’s lips curled into a vicious smile. “Does Vance know where she is?”
“Not yet,” Hart replied. “But I imagine if someone were to send Mr. Vance an anonymous tip—along with the address of the Caruso estate—he would be more than happy to create a major distraction for our friend Nicholas.”
“Do it,” Vivienne urged, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Let Vance drag that pathetic girl back to Jersey. And when Nicholas is busy picking up the pieces of his shattered household, we’ll strike at his shipping lines.”
Back at the Caruso estate, Nicholas sat in his private study, sipping scotch. Across the mahogany desk sat Marco, his head of security and most trusted lieutenant.
“Boss,” Marco spoke up, placing a satellite radio on the desk. “Our scouts outside the Hart mansion reported a meeting two hours ago. Arthur Hart met with a representative from Jersey.”
Nicholas didn't look surprised. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass.
“Vivienne always was predictable,” Nicholas murmured. “She thinks she’s playing chess, but she doesn't even know the rules.”
May you like
“Should I take care of the Harts, boss?” Marco asked, his hand moving subtly toward his jacket.
“Not yet,” Nicholas replied. “Let them bring Vance into the city. I want all my enemies in one room when I put them down.”
