Chapter 10 - The Missing Tools
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Vanessa’s crystal champagne glass began trembling so violently in her hand that the liquid sloshed over the rim, staining the marble floor. She opened her mouth to speak, to offer some kind of excuse, but no words came out.
The crowd of wealthy guests watched in stunned silence. They were sharks, and they could smell the blood in the water.
Before Vanessa could formulate a lie, Matteo tugged gently on his father’s sleeve.
“Dad…” the boy whispered, his voice trembling again. “She already made men take Grandpa’s tools away.”
Luca’s head snapped down toward his son so fast it was startling. “What tools?”
“All of them,” Matteo said, tears welling up in his eyes again. “When I went in to get the wood, the bench was empty. The wrenches, the hammers, the old rusted vice… they took everything.”
Vanessa took another panicked step backward, retreating into the crowd of guests. “Luca, please, you have to listen to me! I was trying to surprise you! We talked about building a beautiful pool house out there for the summer!”
But Luca wasn't listening to her. The furious syndicate boss was fully awake now.
He turned his head sharply, locking eyes with his head of security, a massive, scarred man named Bruno who was standing near the front door.
“Bruno,” Luca barked, his voice echoing like a gunshot. “Lock the garage. Put two men on the door. No one goes in or out.”
“Yes, Boss,” Bruno said, instantly moving into action, pulling his radio to his mouth.
Luca held up the bright yellow demolition order, the paper crinkling in his tight fist. His dark, murderous eyes stayed locked on the woman he had almost given his last name to.
“And find out who forged my signature on this document,” Luca commanded, his voice deadly quiet but carrying across the entire foyer. “Find them before somebody tears down the last room my father ever built.”
Vanessa looked around frantically, realizing she was entirely surrounded. “Luca, you’re being unreasonable! It was just junk! Rusty wrenches and rotting wood! I am going to be your wife. I shouldn't have to look at a filthy, rundown shack every time I pull my car into the driveway!”
Luca slowly descended the stairs, holding his son’s wooden box in one hand and the forged paper in the other. He stopped two feet away from her.
“You won't have to,” Luca said softly.
May you like
Vanessa blinked, a sliver of hope flashing in her eyes. “I won't?”
“No,” Luca said, his voice entirely devoid of emotion. “Because you are never pulling into my driveway again.”
