Chapter 3 - The Jilted Bride’s Venom
Morning came not with sunlight, but with a pale gray mist rolling off the ocean cliffs.
Maya woke in the massive bed, feeling disoriented. Her feet were wrapped in fresh white bandages, courtesy of a female nurse who had entered quietly around midnight to tend to her wounds while Maya drifted in and out of exhausted sleep.
On the nightstand sat a silver tray with hot coffee, sliced fruit, and a folded piece of heavy cardstock.
Maya sat up, pulling the soft duvet to her chest, and opened the note. The handwriting was dark, sharp, and precise:
Wear the blue dress in the closet. We have visitors at eleven. — V.
Before she could process the message, a sudden commotion outside her bedroom door shattered the morning quiet.
"Get out of my way, Harrison!" a woman’s sharp, haughty voice shrieked down the corridor. "I don't give a damn about your master's rules! I want to see the little slut he traded my family’s honor for!"
Thud!
The heavy bedroom doors burst open.
Standing on the threshold was Bianca Moretti.
Without her bridal veil and white gown, the jilted bride looked even more dangerous. She wore a skin-tight red leather coat, high heels, and diamonds at her ears. Her ice-blue eyes were bloodshot with rage, and in her gloved right hand, she clutched a small, pearl-handled revolver.
Two Torino security guards hovered behind her, their hands on their holsters, looking frantically toward the hallway.
"Out," Bianca barked at the guards without breaking eye contact with Maya. "Or I swear to God my father will order a hit on every guard on this floor."
Maya sat up straighter, every defense mechanism she had learned from surviving Marcus Hail snapping into place. She didn't scream. She didn't pull the covers over her head. She looked Bianca dead in the eyes.
"You're holding the gun wrong," Maya said quietly, her voice calm despite her pounding heart. "If you fire a pearl-handled snub-nose with a grip that loose, the recoil will snap your wrist before the bullet hits me."
Bianca froze, surprised by the total lack of terror in the intruder’s eyes. Her jaw tightened. "You think you're clever, don't you? A little gutter rat running in from the rain, dropping onto her knees for Vincent Torino?"
"I didn't ask for any of this," Maya said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her bare, bandaged feet touched the cold hardwood floor. "I was running for my life."
"And you ran right into a war zone," Bianca spat, taking two steps into the room, raising the gun higher. "My father, Don Moretti, has already called an emergency meeting of the Five Families. Vincent destroyed an alliance that kept this city peaceful for fifteen years! All for you. Do you have any idea what he is?"
"He's a man who saved me," Maya answered.
"He's a monster!" Bianca screamed, her composure cracking. "He's a calculating, ruthless sociopath who doesn't do anything without a reason! You think he saved you out of kindness?! Vincent Torino doesn't have a heart, sweetie! He used you as an excuse to break our wedding contract because my father wouldn't give him control of the harbor docks!"
Maya’s breath caught. The words struck a cold chord inside her.
Was it a setup? Had Vincent known she would run into that room?
"Put the gun down, Bianca."
The deep, resonant voice came from behind Bianca in the doorway.
Vincent stood there, holding a leather folder under his arm. He didn't look armed. He didn't look panicked. He walked into the bedroom with the easy grace of a predator entering his own den.
Bianca spun around, pointing the revolver at his chest. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill her right now, Vincent! You humiliated me! You made my family a laughingstock!"
Vincent didn't stop walking until the barrel of the revolver was pressing directly against his dark silk tie, right over his heart.
He stared down at Bianca with absolute indifference.
"Pull the trigger," Vincent said softly. "Pull it, Bianca. And before my body hits this floor, my men will erase the Moretti name from Grayhaven. Your father, your brothers, your empire—gone by noon."
Bianca’s hand began to shake. The ice in her eyes melted into sheer, desperate frustration. "You bastard... you never intended to marry me."
"No," Vincent agreed smoothly, reaching out and gently taking the gun from her trembling fingers. He slid the safety on and dropped the weapon into his suit pocket. "I didn't. But your father was too greedy to see it. Now, go home, Bianca. Tell Don Moretti that if he wants to discuss the harbor docks, he can meet me at the summit tonight. With his lawyers, not his guns."
Bianca glared at him, then whipped her head around to look at Maya one last time.
"Enjoy him while you can, darling," Bianca sneered, turning on her heel and marching out of the suite. "Men like Vincent don't keep pets for long."
When the doors clicked shut, the room fell into a heavy silence.
Maya looked at Vincent. He walked over to her nightstand, set the folder down, and looked down at her bare feet on the cold floor.
"Did she hurt you?" he asked.
"No," Maya whispered. She looked up at him, her gray-green eyes searching his face. "Did you? Use me, I mean? Was Bianca right?"
May you like
Vincent didn't answer immediately. He reached out, his thumb gently catching a strand of her dark hair that had fallen across her forehead, tucking it behind her ear. His touch was electric, making her skin tingle.
"I needed a reason to cancel the wedding without starting an immediate war," Vincent admitted honestly, his voice dropping into a raspy murmur. "That is the politician in me. But when I looked at your face, saw the blood on your feet, and saw that bastard standing behind you thinking he owned you... that wasn't politics, Maya. That was rage."
