Chapter 17 - Turning the Tables
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The Castellano estate was a fortress on lockdown by the time Luca and Nora returned. Heavily armed guards patrolled the perimeter, and the massive iron gates were sealed shut.
Inside the primary study, Luca stood behind his mahogany desk, looking at the tactical report Marco had just handed him. Nora sat on the leather sofa, sipping hot tea, wearing one of Luca’s oversized sweaters.
“The hit squad was led by a freelance enforcer named Silas,” Marco reported grimly. “He didn't survive the shootout on the street. We recovered a burner phone from his body. The last received call was from a disposable number, but the cell tower pinged exactly to a dive bar in Brooklyn.”
“Who hates me enough to hire cheap freelancers, but doesn't have the resources to hire professionals?” Luca mused, his eyes narrowing.
“Vanessa Thorne,” Nora said softly from the sofa.
Both men turned to look at her.
“She was fired today,” Nora explained, her mind working with sharp, calculating precision. “She lost everything because I stole her access card. Gregory is running from the Russians, so he couldn't have hired them. Vanessa is desperate, angry, and she thinks I ruined her life.”
Luca’s jaw tightened. The thought of the woman who had assaulted Nora in the foyer trying to have her murdered ignited a violent, uncontrollable rage in his chest.
“Marco,” Luca ordered coldly. “Find her. Bring her to the basement.”
“Wait,” Nora interjected, standing up and walking toward the desk. “If you bring her here, if you kill her, you validate everything she thinks we are. She thinks we are just thugs. I want to ruin her the way she tried to ruin me.”
Luca raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the lethal, calm fire in his wife’s eyes. “What do you have in mind, mia regina?”
“Vanessa’s entire identity is tied to her wealth and her corporate reputation,” Nora said, pulling a flash drive from her pocket. It was a copy of the Meridian decryption. “She authorized the transfers for Gregory. She’s complicit in defrauding the SEC and laundering money for terrorists.”
Nora set the flash drive on the desk.
“Don't kill her,” Nora smiled, a chilling, brilliant expression. “Send this drive to the FBI’s white-collar crime division. Send it anonymously. Let the federal government freeze her accounts, seize her assets, and parade her out of her luxury apartment in handcuffs on national television.”
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Luca stared at the woman standing in front of him. She wasn't just surviving his world; she was mastering it. He reached across the desk, grabbing her hand and pressing a fervent kiss to her knuckles.
“Consider it done,” Luca vowed.
