Chapter 5 - THE CONFRONTATION
The following afternoon, Faith decided it was time to address her unresolved past.
She needed her official identification documents, her nursing license physical card, and her personal effects from the apartment she had shared with Vincent. She could not begin her work at Mount Sinai without them.
Against Maria’s gentle protests, Faith insisted on returning to the apartment during the day while Vincent was typically at his investment firm.
“Take Marco with you,” Maria insisted, gesturing to one of the security drivers stationed near the main entrance.
“I just need twenty minutes to pack my documents,” Faith explained. “I don't want a scene.”
Marco, a quiet man built like a brick wall, drove her into the city in a dark, tinted sedan. He parked down the street from the high-rise apartment building where Vincent lived.
“I wait right here, Miss Faith,” Marco said in his deep voice. “If you are not back in fifteen minutes, I come up.”
“Thank you, Marco. I won't be long.”
Faith used her key to enter the building, taking the elevator up to the twelfth floor. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she unlocked the apartment door.
The living room was an absolute mess. Empty bottles littered the coffee table, and clothes were thrown across the furniture. As Faith walked toward the bedroom to retrieve her fireproof document box, the front door clicked open behind her.
Vincent walked in, holding a takeout coffee cup. He looked disheveled and unwashed, his eyes bloodshot.
He froze when he saw her. Then, a look of immense relief—followed quickly by familiar arrogant frustration—crossed his face.
“Where the hell have you been?” Vincent demanded, tossing his keys onto the counter. “I’ve been calling you for three days! Do you have any idea what you put me through?”
Faith stood her ground, her voice remarkably calm. “I came to get my birth certificate, my nursing license, and my personal documents, Vincent. Then I’m leaving.”
Vincent laughed—a harsh, mocking sound. “Leaving? To go where? You don't have a dime, Faith. You don't have a job, and you don't have a family. You think you can just walk out on me after everything I’ve done for you?”
He took a aggressive step toward her. “You think you’re better than me? You’re nothing without my money!”
“I am starting my job at Mount Sinai on Monday,” Faith said, grabbing her document box from the closet shelf. “And I would rather sleep on the street than spend another second in this apartment with you.”
Vincent’s face flushed with anger. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and bruising. “You don't talk to me like that! You don't just walk away when I’m talking to you!”
“Let go of me,” Faith said through gritted teeth, her medical instincts assessing his physical stance.
“Or what?” Vincent sneered, tightening his grip. “Who’s going to stop me? Your dead mother?”
Before Faith could react, the front door of the apartment crashed open with a deafening bang.
May you like
The heavy wooden frame shattered as two men in dark suits stepped inside, followed immediately by Francesco Moretti.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop below freezing in an instant.
