Chapter 6 - THE SNAKE IN THE GRASS
While I rested under the watchful eye of a private nurse Vincent had hired, Vincent descended to the quiet, dim courtyard behind the hospital, where Miles held Grant Holloway in check.
Grant was pacing near a stone bench, clutching his leather briefcase to his chest. When he saw Vincent approaching, he tried to adopt his usual professional smile.
“Vincent! Thank God,” Grant said quickly. “How is Hannah? How is the baby? I’ve been worried sick up here—”
Vincent didn't answer. He walked up to Grant, grabbed him by the throat, and forced him back against the concrete pillar of the archway.
“Vincent!” Grant choked out, his eyes bulging with fear. “What are you doing? I’m your attorney!”
“Where did you send the original divorce papers, Grant?” Vincent asked, his voice deathly quiet.
“I... I sent them to her attorney, just like you asked!”
“I never asked you to file for divorce,” Vincent said, his fingers tightening around Grant's neck. “I told you to draw up a trust fund for Hannah’s future in case the Moretti conflict went bad. I told you to ensure she was provided for.”
Grant struggled to breathe, his face turning dark red. “Vincent... listen to me...”
Miles stepped forward, holding a manila folder. “Boss, I had our tech team run a trace on the stationery used for the forged letter Hannah received. It wasn't printed at your estate. It was printed on the laser printer in Grant’s private office six months ago.”
Vincent stared into Grant’s terrified eyes. “Why?”
“The... the Morettis...” Grant wheezed out.
Vincent loosened his grip just enough to let Grant speak, though he kept his hand clamped around his windpipe.
“Talk,” Vincent commanded.
“The Morettis offered me three million dollars!” Grant confessed, sobbing in terror. “They knew if Hannah stayed by your side, she’d keep you grounded—she made you cautious! They wanted you angry, isolated, and distracted! They knew if you thought she abandoned you, you’d go to war with the families and destroy yourself!”
Vincent listened, his expression frighteningly still. “You separated me from my wife. You left my pregnant daughter to grow up in hiding without her father... for three million dollars?”
“I’m sorry, Vincent! Please!” Grant begged, tears streaming down his face. “I’ll give the money back! I’ll fix it! I’ll file the paperwork to annul the divorce!”
Vincent looked at Miles. “Take him to the warehouse on 47th Street. Keep him alive until I finish visiting my daughter.”
“No! Vincent, please! Mercy!” Grant screamed as Miles effortlessly grabbed him, dragged him toward a waiting black SUV, and shoved him into the back seat.
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Vincent stood in the quiet courtyard for a moment, adjusting his cuffs. He pulled a small handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his hands, and threw the cloth into a trash bin.
Then, he turned around and walked back into the hospital, leaving the shadows of his old life behind to return to the only two people who mattered.
