Emma Bellucci wept in agony as her small fingers were caught beneath the heavy wooden fallboard of the grand piano

The threat of imminent death hung heavily in the bright, vividly colored music room. Camille, realizing that Miles was moments away from being executed right in front of her, completely broke down. The illusion of her grand, aristocratic future had been burned to ash, leaving only a desperate, groveling coward.

"It was his idea!" Camille screamed, pointing a shaking, manicured finger at Miles. She scrambled forward on her hands and knees, ignoring the sharp shards of ceramic biting into her fair skin. "Adrian, you have to believe me! Miles forced me into it!"

Miles’s head snapped toward her, his jaw dropping in sheer disbelief at the instantaneous betrayal. "Camille, what the hell are you doing? You told me you loved me!"

"Shut up!" Camille sobbed hysterically, looking up at Adrian with wide, pathetic eyes. "We were married before I met you, Adrian! We were broke. Miles got the job on your security detail and saw how much money you had. He told me to seduce you! He told me to get the ring so we could funnel money out of your offshore accounts!"

The absolute foolishness of confessing a coordinated, long-term theft to a veteran Mafia Boss in his own home was staggering. The bodyguards standing by the door shifted uncomfortably, shocked by the sheer stupidity of the woman kneeling on the floor.

Adrian did not look surprised. He looked profoundly, lethally disappointed.

"You thought... you could steal from me," Adrian murmured, his deep American accent carrying a slow, chilling cadence. "You believed... my wealth made me blind. You assumed... the charming smiles... and the tailored suits... meant I had forgotten... how to be a monster."

"I never wanted to do it!" Camille wept, reaching out to grab the hem of Adrian’s trousers. "He threatened me! He said he would kill me if I didn't play along! I am a victim here, Adrian! Please, you have to protect me!"

Adrian slowly looked down at her hands clutching his trousers. He did not kick her away. He simply stared at her fingers until she realized the danger and snatched them back, shrinking away in terror.

"You crushed... the fingers of my child," Adrian stated, his voice devoid of any human empathy. "A victim... does not torture the innocent... to protect her lies."

He turned his cold, sharp gaze back to Miles. The bodyguard was shaking violently, his professional suit soaked in nervous sweat.

"She is lying, Boss!" Miles pleaded, his voice cracking into a high-pitched whine. "It was her plan! She wanted the lifestyle! She wanted the estate! I just went along with it because she’s my wife!"

"Your wife," Adrian echoed softly. He let out a low, dark sigh, running a tattooed hand through his slightly wavy hair. The romantic, cinematic aesthetic of the scene was completely overshadowed by the dark reality of the syndicate. "You brought a thief... into my sanctuary. You compromised the safety of my daughter. You broke... the only rule... that matters."