Chapter 4 - THE TRAP CLOSES FROM WITHIN
The rattling at the door grew frantic.
“Dante! Open this door or I swear my father will pull every investor from your shipping ports tonight!” Vanessa shrieked.
Dante didn’t rush.
He walked across the Persian rug with the unhurried composure of a man who owned the building, the city, and the people screaming outside it.
He turned the heavy brass handle and pulled the door open just wide enough.
Vanessa stumbled forward, nearly losing her balance on her six-inch designer heels.
Her face was flushed with wine and pure, unadulterated rage.
“How dare you lock yourself in here with a—!”
She stopped dead in her tracks.
Her eyes darted from Dante’s relaxed posture to me, standing frozen beside the velvet armchair.
“You’re still here,” Vanessa hissed, her voice trembling. “Dante, get this trash out of our sight. We have guests downstairs waiting for our toast.”
Dante leaned against the doorframe, blocking her path.
“The toast can wait, Vanessa.”
“The toast is a multi-million-dollar merger!” she snapped, her mask of polite aristocratic grace completely slipping away. “You’re making a scene over a glorified servant!”
“Elena isn't staff,” Dante said smoothly.
The words dropped into the hallway like a lead weight.
Vanessa’s breath hitched.
“What did you just say?”
“You heard me,” Dante replied, his dark eyes narrowing. “And while we’re on the subject of honesty, Vanessa... why did you look so pale when you read the name ‘Carter’ on the employment ledger three months ago?”
The color drained entirely from Vanessa’s face.
She looked like she had just seen a ghost.
“I... I don't know what you’re talking about. Carter? There are thousands of Carters.”
“Not many whose fathers held patents for synthetic blood-clotting agents,” Dante countered, stepping forward.
Vanessa retreated a step, her heels clicking rapidly against the marble hallway.
“You’re investigating me?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “For a maid?”
“For a truth,” Dante corrected her.
I stepped forward from the shadows of the study, my hands clenched into tight fists at my sides.
“You knew who I was the second I walked into this mansion,” I said, my voice cutting through the tense air. “You didn't accidentally spill champagne on your gown. You wanted to see if I’d break.”
Vanessa spun around to face me, her eyes flashing with venom.
“You pathetic little parasite!” she screamed, lunging forward. “Your father was a thief! He stole from my family!”
“He died in a fire your father ordered!” I shouted back, taking a step toward her.
Before Vanessa could lunge at me, a heavy hand gripped her shoulder.
Dante pulled her back effortlessly.
“Enough,” Dante commanded.
Downstairs, the sound of muffled music stopped.
Murmurs echoed up the grand staircase.
Richard Bennett’s booming voice called out from the foyer.
“Vanessa? Dante? What is the meaning of this commotion?”
Vanessa’s expression twisted into a manic, desperate smile.
She looked up at Dante, tears welling in her eyes—real tears of panic this time.
“Dante... please,” she whispered, clutching his lapel. “My father will ruin you. He has the board of directors in his pocket. If you humiliate me tonight, you lose everything.”
Dante looked down at her hand on his jacket.
Slowly, deliberately, he peeled her fingers away.
“Let him try,” Dante said coldly.
He turned his head toward the stairs as Richard Bennett’s footsteps began marching up toward the third floor.
“Elena,” Dante said without looking at me. “Lock the study door behind us. Don't let anyone in.”
“Dante, where are you going?” I asked.
May you like
He glanced over his shoulder, a dark, dangerous smirk playing on his lips.
“To finish a war your father started.”
