Chapter 4 - Stripping the Crown
The east wing of the Falcone mansion was a monument to excessive wealth—all velvet drapes, gilded mirrors, and marble floors imported directly from Italy.
When Adriano unlocked the heavy double doors of Genevieve’s private suite, he found her pacing across the Persian rug like a caged panther. Her expensive makeup was slightly smudged, and she had already changed into a silk lounging robe, though her diamond earrings still glittered under the recessed lighting.
“Adriano!” Genevieve shrieked, marching right up to him. “Have you completely lost your mind? Throwing me under the bus in front of the entire city council? Dismissing my guests? For a maid?”
Adriano didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He looked down at her with an expression so utterly empty of emotion that Genevieve stopped dead in her tracks, her manicured hands dropping to her sides.
“You pushed a woman into a pool because she was standing near your precious dessert table,” Adriano said, his voice eerily quiet. “You humiliated a mother in front of her child. And then you smiled.”
“She’s a servant!” Genevieve snapped, her voice rising in defensive hysteria. “She doesn't belong in the garden during a reception! Her little brat was tracking dirt onto the terrace! My father built half the commercial properties in this state—we don't cater to peasants, Adriano!”
“Your father built his fortune on crooked zoning deals and insurance fraud,” Adriano corrected coldly, tossing the manila folder onto the silk-covered vanity table.
Genevieve stared at the folder. A cold tremor seemed to pass through her shoulders. “What... what is that?”
“Open it,” Adriano commanded.
With shaking fingers, Genevieve untied the string and pulled out the documents. As her eyes scanned the first page—the insurance settlement records from three years ago, the bank transfer logs bearing her father’s signature, and the name Thomas Hail highlighted in yellow marker—all the color drained completely from her face.
“You... you investigated this?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Over a dead mechanic?”
“A mechanic whose wife you and your father robbed blind,” Adriano said, stepping closer until he towered over her. “You didn't just steal her husband; you stole her future. And then you brought her into my home, made her scrub these floors, and treated her like dirt beneath your expensive shoes.”
“It was business!” Genevieve cried, backing away until the edge of the king-sized bed stopped her. “My father handles the portfolio! I didn't even know her name until six months ago! Adriano, please—we’re supposed to be married in two months. Think of the families! Think of the alliance!”
“The alliance is dead,” Adriano said flatly.
He reached out, his long fingers closing around the multi-carat diamond engagement ring sparkling on her left ring finger. With a sharp, decisive tug, he pulled the ring off her skin, the metal catching slightly against her knuckle before sliding free.
Genevieve let out a sharp cry, clutching her hand to her chest as if she had been physically wounded.
“My ring,” she sobbed. “You can’t do this. My father will destroy you—!”
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“Your father is currently sitting in a black SUV outside the front gates, wondering why his phone calls to my security detail aren't being answered,” Adriano interrupted, tossing the diamond ring onto the vanity tray with a sharp clink. “Pack your bags, Genevieve. You have until sunrise to leave this estate. If I see your face or hear your father’s name in my city ever again, the next file I open won't be about embezzlement. It will be an autopsy report.”
He turned on his heel, his dark coat sweeping behind him, and walked out of the suite, slamming the heavy double doors shut behind him with a finality that echoed through the entire wing.
