Chapter 4 - The Unmasking
Vanessa’s face twisted with fury. "Dante, you are delirious. The medication is making you paranoid. I am your fiancée. I have cared for you day and night while these incompetent servants sleep!"
"Cared for me?" I let out a harsh, rattling laugh that turned into a fit of coughing. Elena dropped the tray, rushing to my side with a clean handkerchief, her touch gentle and steady as she wiped the blood from my lips.
"Mr. Moretti, let me help," Elena murmured, her eyes swimming with unshed tears.
"You see, Vanessa?" I wheezed, catching my breath. "This woman has worked eighteen-hour shifts in my house for three years. She cleans up my blood, she washes my sheets, and she has never once stolen a single dime. Yet you... you couldn't wait six weeks for my heart to stop on its own."
Vanessa backed away toward the door, her silk gown rustling like a nest of vipers. "You're insane. When the board hears about this—when the lawyers see your medical state—they'll declare you incompetent. Everything belongs to me by proxy!"
"The board?" I smiled, a cold, terrifying expression that made her flinch. "Vanessa, do you honestly believe I trusted you with the keys to my kingdom? The primary accounts, the shipping ports, the offshore holdings—they aren't tied to a marriage certificate. They are tied to a biometric vault that requires my heartbeat and my voiceprint. And tomorrow morning, when my lawyers arrive, that vault is being reassigned."
Her face went chalk white. "You didn't..."
"I did," I whispered. "And the moment you tried to accelerate my departure tonight, the security system recorded every word of our conversation. Dr. Harris isn't in the observation room, Vanessa. He's downloading the audio logs to the federal prosecutor's office as insurance."
Panic finally broke through her elegant facade. She lunged forward, her hands clawing toward the oxygen mask on my face. "You selfish bastard! You won't ruin me!"
Before her fingers could touch the plastic, Elena moved with a speed born of desperate protection. She grabbed the heavy silver water pitcher from the bedside table and swung it with a sharp, decisive crack directly into Vanessa’s wrist.
Vanessa screamed, stumbling backward and clutching her arm.
The heavy oak doors burst open. Two of my loyal enforcers, led by Capo Marco, swarmed into the room, their weapons drawn, their faces carved from granite.
"Boss," Marco said, eyeing the scene with cold professional detachment. "You called?"
I pointed a shaking finger at Vanessa, who was now backed against the wall, hyperventilating as the guards closed in around her.
"Take her to the basement holding cell," I commanded, my voice cold as the winter storm outside. "Strip her of her access cards, her accounts, and her titles. And make sure she understands what a real betrayal costs."
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Marco nodded once. "Consider it done."
As Vanessa was dragged screaming from the room, her designer heels clicking frantically against the floor before being muffled by the hallway carpet, a profound silence settled back over the master bedroom.
