Chapter 3 - The Zurich Deception
Three miles away, in a darkened penthouse suite overlooking the foggy expanse of the East River, Luca Ventresca sat in a leather armchair.
The room was silent except for the soft hum of six wall-mounted monitors. On the central display, in brilliant 4K resolution, was the sitting room of his family’s Long Island estate.
Luca’s jet had indeed departed JFK airport for Zurich two hours ago. But Luca hadn't been on it. His head of security, Marko, had boarded in his place, wearing a pulled-down trench coat and wool cap to fool the paparazzi and Julian Beaumont’s spotters.
Luca leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His knuckles were white, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscle twitched beneath his scarred cheek.
On screen, he watched Celeste Beaumont slap his mother across the face. He watched her withhold the pill box. He heard every word of her cruel, triumphant taunts echoing through the studio-grade audio monitors.
"Boss," Marko’s voice came through the encrypted comms earpiece. "Julian Beaumont’s men just crossed the outer gate. They’re bringing in a dirty notary from Queens. They’re going to force the thumbprint scan tonight."
Luca reached out and picked up a heavy crystal tumbler of whiskey. He didn't drink. He simply squeezed the glass until his fingers turned numb.
"Let them," Luca said, his voice terrifyingly calm, smooth as crushed velvet and cold as liquid nitrogen. "Let them complete every single line of that forgery. I don't just want Celeste ruined. I want the entire Beaumont lineage dismantled brick by brick."
"What about the housekeeper?" Marko asked. "Nora. She’s taking a lot of risk for your mother."
Luca watched the screen as Nora carefully wiped his mother’s face, placing herself like a human shield between Elena and the door.
"Nora stays safe," Luca ordered softly. "If Celeste lays one finger on that girl’s head, you execute Option Zero immediately. Understood?"
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"Understood, Boss."
Luca stared at the monitor, his dark eyes fixed on Celeste’s smiling face. "Enjoy your final days of freedom, my sweet bride. You're walking straight to the gallows."
