Chapter 13
I walked into the Rivers‘ company building, my heels clicking against the marble floor. Vincent and Marco flanked me.
Thomas sat behind his father’s mahogany desk, Jessica perched on its edge like she belonged there. Margaret and Robert Rivers stood nearby, their faces painted with that familiar condescending smile.
“Ah, finally.” Thomas leaned back in his chair. “Ready to apologize? Your bodyguards too?”
I approached his desk, my lips curved in a smile that made his own falter. Without warning, my palm connected with hist cheek, the crack echoing through the room. His head snapped to the side, a red mark blooming where I’d struck him.
“How dare-” Margaret stepped forward, but Vincent’s quiet chuckle from the couch. stopped her cold.
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“You know what’s funny?” I traced my fingers along the desk’s edge. “For years, I wondered why you chose me. The adopted country girl who wasn’t good enough for your precious son.”
Jessica’s smug expression wavered as Thomas rubbed his cheek, fury building in his eyes.
“But now I know.” I pulled out the original will from my bag. “You needed me because I’m Dominic Swanson’s granddaughter. The real owner of everything you stole while I was grieving.”
Robert Rivers‘ face drained of color. “That’s impossible-”
“The warehouses, the Hampton house, the art collection.” I met Thomas’s gaze. “Everything you married me for? It was never yours to take.”
Thomas lunged forward, but Marco’s hand on his shoulder pushed him back into his
chair.
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“What’s wrong, Thomas?” I tilted my head. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To see me in your office?”
I watched Thomas fumble for his phone, his hands shaking with rage. “You’ll regret this. One call and my connections in the mafia will-”
Vincent’s deep laugh cut through the tension. My skin prickled at the sound.
“Marco.” Vincent’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Let him go.”
Marco released his grip on Thomas’s shoulder and stepped back. Thomas. straightened his jacket, trying to reclaim some dignity.
“Go ahead,” Vincent said, patting the space beside him on the couch. “Make your call.”
I moved across the room and settled next to Vincent, our shoulders brushing. The leather creaked under my weight.
“You think I’m bluffing?” Thomas’s voice
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cracked as he jabbed at his phone screen. “I know people. Important people.”
Jessica edged away from the desk, her earlier confidence evaporating. Margaret gripped Robert’s arm, their faces pale as sheets.
“By all means.” Vincent’s arm draped across the back of the couch behind me. “Call your mafia friends. I’d love to meet them.”
Thomas’s fingers flew across his phone screen, a smirk playing on his lips. “They’ll
be here in ten minutes. Last chance to walk
away.”
I kept my face blank as Vincent’s fingers wove through my hair, his touch gentle despite the tension crackling through the
room.
“Look at her acting tough.” Margaret’s lip curled. “Just like when we bought you from those pathetic parents of yours. Couldn’t even afford to keep their own child.”
Robert chuckled. “Remember how that old
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cracked as he jabbed at his phone screen. “I know people. Important people.”
Jessica edged away from the desk, her earlier confidence evaporating. Margaret gripped Robert’s arm, their faces pale as sheets.
“By all means.” Vincent’s arm draped across the back of the couch behind me. “Call
your mafia friends. I’d love to meet them.”
Thomas’s fingers flew across his phone screen, a smirk playing on his lips. “They’ll
be here in ten minutes. Last chance to walk
away.”
I kept my face blank as Vincent’s fingers. wove through my hair, his touch gentle despite the tension crackling through the
room.
“Look at her acting tough.” Margaret’s lip curled. “Just like when we bought you from those pathetic parents of yours. Couldn’t even afford to keep their own child.”
Robert chuckled. “Remember how that old
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Chapter 13
fool of a grandfather came charging in? All
that fuss about taking you back. Lost his life to cancer, haha.”
My hands clenched in my lap, but Vincent’s steady strokes through my hair kept me grounded. The pain of their words hit. different now – like old scars being poked rather than fresh wounds.
“Tick tock.” Thomas waved his phone. “Hand over the will, get on your knees, and maybe we’ll let you crawl away. Otherwise…” He drew his finger across his
throat.
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