Chapter 6 - The Fall of the House of Vance
The aftermath of the Commerce Gala was a swift, catastrophic slaughter.
Within twenty-four hours of the announcement of Mireia and Darius’s marriage, the stock of Dalton Enterprises plummeted by thirty percent as foreign investors panicked over the sudden hostile takeover by the Villano Syndicate.
Caleb Vance’s family firm, Vance Financial, was hit even harder.
Mireia had spent her first night at the Villano Tower handing Darius a complete archive of Vance Financial’s illegal tax evasion schemes—data she had personally uncovered two years prior while auditing Caleb’s corporate files, which she had kept stored on an encrypted drive as personal leverage.
By Wednesday morning, federal agents raided the offices of Vance Financial.
Richard Vance was arrested at his Greenwich estate for wire fraud, insider trading, and money laundering. Caleb Vance was pulled out of a morning board meeting in handcuffs, his face pale, crying as television crews filmed his public arrest outside the courthouse.
Sitting in the master study of the Villano Tower, Mireia watched the live news coverage on a massive wall display.
She sat on the leather sofa, a hot cup of Earl Grey tea in her hands, her legs tucked under a soft cashmere blanket.
Darius walked into the room, wearing a dark gray suit with his tie loosened. He walked over to the sofa, sitting beside her, his long arm stretching across the leather back behind her shoulders.
“Happy with the morning news, Mrs. Villano?” Darius asked softly.
Mireia set her tea down on the glass table. She looked at the screen, watching Caleb being shoved into the back of a police cruiser, his hair messy, his designer suit wrinkled, his reputation destroyed forever.
For six years, he had made her feel small, worthless, and second-best. Now, he was a footnote in the history of her family’s ascent.
“I thought I would feel more... dramatic satisfaction,” Mireia admitted quietly, turning her head to look at Darius. “But mostly, I just feel free.”
Darius looked down at her, his hazel eyes softening with a rare, profound warmth. He reached out, his long fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“That is because revenge is not a destination, Mireia,” Darius said softly. “It is merely clearing the garbage off the road so you can walk forward.”
Mireia stared at his handsome face. Over the last four days, she had expected the mob king to demand physical intimacy, to assert his dominance, to treat her as an asset in his criminal portfolio. But Darius had treated her with flawless respect, profound intellect, and an absolute protection that made her feel safer than she had ever felt in her entire life.
“What about my father?” Mireia asked.
“Arthur has called my office twelve times this morning,” Darius replied. “He is offering to sign over his remaining personal shares in Dalton Enterprises if you agree to meet him for dinner tonight to discuss a truce.”
Mireia’s eyes narrowed. “A truce? Arthur Dalton doesn't offer truces unless he’s setting an ambush.”
Darius grinned—a dangerous, predatory flash of white teeth. “My thoughts exactly. Which is why we are going to accept his invitation.”
May you like
He leaned down, pressing his lips gently against her temple, his voice dropping into a dark whisper.
“And we are going to bring fifty armed operatives to ensure his ambush becomes his funeral.”
