Chapter 5 - The Fiancée’s Final Betrayal
That evening, seventeen people gathered around Damian's dining table.
Vivien sat beside her father.
Bruno sat three seats away.
Three disloyal capos joined them.
Carlo stood behind Damian's wheelchair.
Damian looked exhausted.
Weak.
Defeated.
Exactly as planned.
Vivien's father cleared his throat.
“We need stability.”
Damian said nothing.
“The Russo organization cannot remain without active leadership.”
“I'm active.”
Bruno laughed.
“You're furniture.”
Carlo stepped forward.
Damian raised one hand.
“No.”
Bruno leaned back.
Vivien finally spoke.
“This isn't personal.”
Damian looked at her.
“That's what people say immediately before doing something personal.”
“We propose transferring operational control.”
“To whom?”
“My father will oversee the transition.”
“And Bruno?”
“Dock operations.”
“The other three?”
Nobody answered.
Damian smiled.
“Interesting.”
Vivien frowned.
“What?”
“You've divided everything already.”
“Damian—”
“The docks. Construction. Imports. Territory.”
He looked around the table.
“Did you divide my house too?”
Bruno laughed.
“You don't have a choice.”
Damian's expression became still.
Carlo placed several folders on the table.
Vivien's father looked down.
“What are those?”
“Records,” Damian said.
Bruno stopped smiling.
“Financial transfers. Private meetings. Payments. Copies of messages. Every conversation you've had concerning Russo territory since my accident.”
Vivien stared at him.
“You were watching us?”
“I was waiting.”
Her father pushed back his chair.
“You have no authority to—”
Damian interrupted.
“I have every authority.”
Bruno stood.
“This meeting is over.”
“No.”
The single word silenced the room.
Bruno looked at Damian.
“You going to stop me?”
Damian placed both hands on the wheelchair arms.
Vivien's face changed.
“Damian?”
He pushed himself upward.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Then Damian Russo stood.
Silence swallowed the room.
Vivien's mouth opened.
Bruno went white.
Damian straightened his black shirt.
“I think,” he said calmly, “we should finish the meeting.”
Vivien stumbled backward.
“You—you can't—”
“Walk?”
He stepped around the wheelchair.
“Apparently I can.”
Her father stared at Carlo.
“You knew?”
Carlo smiled.
“Every minute.”
Bruno backed toward the door.
Damian didn't follow him.
“Your accounts are frozen. Your crews have already been reassigned. The guards outside have instructions to escort you off Russo property.”
Bruno stared.
“You set us up.”
“No.”
Damian looked around the table.
“I gave you an opportunity.”
His eyes settled on Vivien.
“You chose what to do with it.”
Vivien shook her head.
“You humiliated me.”
“You abandoned me before you knew whether I could ever recover.”
“Our marriage was business.”
“Exactly.”
Damian placed his grandmother's ring on the table.
“And the business arrangement is terminated.”
Vivien stared at him.
“Because of the maid?”
Damian's expression shifted.
Nobody else noticed.
Carlo did.
Vivien laughed.
“Oh my God. It is.”
“Hannah has nothing to do with this.”
“She has everything to do with it.”
Vivien stepped closer.
“You fell for your servant while pretending to be helpless.”
Damian's voice turned cold.
“Don't speak about her.”
Vivien smiled.
“Where is she, Damian?”
He said nothing.
Her smile widened.
“She left you, didn't she?”
That landed.
Vivien saw it.
“So after all your clever little tests, the only loyal woman in this house discovered what you really are.”
Damian stared at her.
Vivien collected her purse.
“And she walked away.”
The doors closed behind her.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Carlo quietly said:
“She isn't wrong about that part.”
Damian turned.
Carlo immediately reconsidered.
May you like
“I'll begin escorting everyone out.”
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