Chapter 10
The bright video colors of the summer afternoon felt entirely surreal against the dark, violent reality that had settled over the estate. Valerie stood tall, the distinctive black expense card pinched between her thumb and forefinger. The cinematic light caught the heavy gold of her family signet ring, a symbol of power that she was finally ready to wield openly.
She slowly looked from the black card in her hand, down to the groaning, bloody figure of Donovan struggling to open his eyes amidst the spilled mustard and ruined bread.
Then, her cold, calculating gaze shifted across the patio. She looked at Harper, the twelve-year-old girl who was still cowering near the oak tree. Valerie’s eyes swept over the girl’s outrageously expensive designer summer dress, the custom strappy sandals, and the lavish, diamond-studded tennis equipment resting near the gift table—luxury items that far exceeded the standard allowance of a family associate.
The pieces of the puzzle locked together with devastating, undeniable clarity.
Donovan finally managed to push himself up onto his elbows. His pale, sunburnt face was a horrific mess of blood and swelling. He looked up at Valerie, his eyes widening in sheer, unadulterated panic as he saw what she was holding in her hand. He knew instantly that his most dangerous secret had just been exposed to the one person who could authorize his execution.
"Valerie... wait," Donovan wheezed, his American accent slurring through his broken jaw, coughing up blood onto the stone. "I can explain the card. It's a misunderstanding. I was moving funds for a new investment."
Valerie did not blink. The terrifying, deeply masculine aura of the veteran Mafia boss fully consumed her. She looked down at him, her eyes completely devoid of human empathy, warmth, or forgiveness.
"$1,986,400," Valerie stated.
Her voice was dead calm. She spoke incredibly slowly, keeping her volume low, yet the measured cadence echoed with absolute, chilling authority across the silent backyard.
"From my account," Valerie continued, her tone dropping into a register of pure, concentrated ice.
Donovan’s face became a portrait of pure, paralyzing fright. The color drained entirely from his lips. He realized she had known the exact missing amount all along. She had been hunting the thief, and he had just handed himself over to her.
"Valerie, please," Donovan begged, tears of genuine terror finally spilling over his cheeks. "I'll pay it back! I'll give you everything I have! Just don't tell the capos! They'll kill me!"
"The capos," Valerie whispered, her eyes narrowing into lethal, dark slits, "work for me."
She took one slow, deliberate step closer, ensuring he heard every syllable of his final judgment.
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"My child’s wish was snuffed out," Valerie declared, her voice carrying the absolute, unforgivable weight of a death sentence. "And so was your life."
Donovan let out a pathetic, breathless sob, utterly ruined and waiting for the executioner's blade. The bright summer day had turned into a nightmare, and Valerie Thorne had just claimed her throne in blood.
