Chapter 2 - The Price of Treason
Julian laughed, a sharp, hollow sound. "You think you can intimidate me, Moretti? I have documentation. I have leverage. I have people in the city government who would love to know exactly why a 'maid' in your mansion has such an interesting history."
"You have nothing," Vincent countered, his voice smooth as glass. He signaled to one of his men. "Search him."
Julian went pale. "You can't do that. I have associates waiting—"
"You have associates who will be very surprised to learn that you’ve been siphoning funds from the very syndicate you claim to represent," Vincent said, walking toward him. "I did my research the moment I saw the first bruise on her arms a month ago. I knew you would come. I just didn't expect you to be so stupid."
The two men behind Vincent moved with the fluidity of shadows. They didn't hit Julian; they simply relieved him of his phone, his keys, and a thick envelope tucked inside his jacket. Vincent opened the envelope, glanced at the papers inside, and then crumpled them in his hand.
"These aren't just records of her 'debt'," Vincent said, his voice cold enough to freeze blood. "These are documents proving your illegal exports, your human trafficking rings, and the names of every official you've paid off. I don't need to kill you, Julian. I just need to make a few phone calls."
Julian lunged, a desperate, pathetic movement. Vincent didn't even flinch. He caught Julian by the throat, pinning him against the grand marble staircase—the same one I had been scrubbing moments before.
"You hurt her," Vincent whispered, so quietly that only I could hear. "And you thought I wouldn't notice? You thought you could walk into my home and claim her like a piece of livestock?"
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"She... she's nothing!" Julian choked out.
"She’s everything," Vincent replied. He threw Julian to the floor as if he were nothing more than trash. "Get him out of my sight. Leave him at the edge of the docks. Let him explain his failures to his creditors."
