Chapter 8 - The Ruin of Vivian Sloan
Vivian collapsed onto the leather sofa, her body shaking hysterically as tears spilled over her dark eyeliner.
“Please, Dante!” Vivian wept, holding her hands up in surrender. “Please! He forced me! Julian had photos of my family! He threatened to kill me if I didn't help him swap the babies!”
Dante stood up slowly, walking over to stand directly above her.
“You didn't do it because you were threatened, Vivian,” Dante said coldly. “You did it because you were greedy. You wanted my empire, you wanted my name, and you thought my wife was too weak to stop you.”
He pulled a black leather binder from his coat, tossing it into her lap.
Vivian looked down at the binder with trembling hands.
Inside were hundreds of pages of bank statements, property deeds, and wire transfer logs—detailing every offshore account Vivian owned in the Cayman Islands, Zurich, and Monaco.
“As of four o'clock this morning,” Dante stated, “every single dollar in those accounts has been seized by the federal tax authority. Your properties in Miami and Aspen have been foreclosed. Your family’s shipping company has been placed under federal receivership.”
Vivian stared at the papers, her mind shattering under the weight of absolute financial destruction. “You... you took everything...”
“My wife asked me to leave you with nothing,” Dante said softly. “She wanted you to watch your life turn to ash before you went to prison.”
Two armed federal agents, accompanied by two of Dante’s private security guards, stepped into the executive suite.
The lead agent walked up to Vivian, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt.
“Vivian Sloan,” the agent announced formally. “You are under arrest for federal wire fraud, conspiracy to commit kidnapping, and treason under the organized crime statute.”
Vivian shrieked as the cold metal snapped around her wrists. “Dante! Please! Help me! Don't let them take me!”
Dante didn't even turn his head as the agents dragged her, kicking and screaming, out of the suite into the private elevator hall.
His phone chimed in his pocket.
It was a text from Eli at the lake house: Mrs. Cross and the child are sleeping safely. The perimeter is clear.
Dante let out a long, quiet breath, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the sun rising over the cold grey waters of Lake Michigan. The storm had passed, leaving behind a clear, brilliant golden sky.
May you like
He turned his back on the Meridian Club, walking out toward his car.
It was time to go home to his family.
