Chapter 19 - The Viper’s Whisper
The tension between the two brothers was so thick it could be cut with a blade. Julian and two plainclothes security officers immediately shifted into position, their hands hovering under their dinner jackets.
Vincent didn't budge. His expression was an iron mask, completely devoid of fear. "You have immense nerve walking into this room, Arthur. The federal warrants are being processed as we speak."
Arthur chuckled, taking a slow sip of his champagne. "Warrants? On what grounds, dear brother? Victoria Sterling’s deranged ramblings? The police found no biological traces of me at Pier 42. And as you can see, I arrived tonight as the accredited guest of the Romanian Ambassador. Diplomatic courtesy affords me quite a bit of room to breathe."
Arthur’s gaze slowly slid from Vincent to Emma. His eyes sparkled with predatory calculation.
"And you must be Emma Carter," Arthur purred, bowing slightly with exaggerated chivalry. "The brave little waitress who brought the mighty House of Sterling to its knees. Up close, I must say, you possess your father's stubborn eyes."
Emma felt a cold spike of rage pierce through her fear. She stepped forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Vincent. "Don't you dare speak about my father."
"Why not?" Arthur asked softly, tilting his head. "Has Vincent not told you the whole story? Did he leave out the most delicious details of how the Moretti family built their foundation on your family’s ruins?"
"Arthur," Vincent warned, his voice vibrating with lethal menace. "Walk away. Now."
"You always were quick to hide the dirt beneath the rug, Vincent," Arthur said, his smile sharpening like a razor. "Did you tell her about the fire at the Carter warehouse on 35th Street? Did you tell her who actually locked the safety valves that night?"
Emma’s breath hitched. The fire that had initially destroyed her father’s fleet of trucks had always been ruled an accidental electrical fault—the very disaster that started his downward spiral.
"You're lying," Emma whispered, her knuckles clenching around her satin clutch.
"Am I?" Arthur leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Ask your billionaire protector why his father’s personal seal was on the insurance denial documents. Ask him why the Moretti foundation bought your father’s land for pennies on the dollar three days after he was buried. Vincent likes to pretend he is a savior, Miss Carter. But he is a Moretti through and through. In our family, we don't save people like you—we consume you."
"That's enough," Vincent growled.
Vincent grabbed Arthur by the lapel of his tuxedo, violently pulling him forward. The sound of fabric straining shocked the ballroom into dead silence. Several security guards surged forward, but Arthur merely laughed into Vincent’s face.
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"Strike me, little brother," Arthur taunted quietly. "Do it in front of the governor, the federal judges, the press. Show them the violent brute you really are. Prove to Miss Carter that there is no difference between you and me."
***
