Coveting the Mafia King's Princess - Chapter 47

Chapter 47

“First mistake – killing Dominic Swanson.” Vincent’s eyes found mine for a brief moment. “He wasn’t just Cheryl’s grandfather. He was my teacher, my mentor.”

Joey’s jaw clenched. The warehouse felt smaller somehow, the air heavy with tension.

“Second – showing up here today, trying to ruin my wedding.” Vincent flicked ash onto the concrete floor. “That was… unwise.”

Thomas backed away, his face pale as paper. I could see the realization dawning in his eyes – he’d allied himself with the wrong person.

“Third mistake?” Vincent leaned forward, his voice dropping lower. “Challenging me. In my territory. With these…” He waved dismissively at Joey’s men. “…amateur thugs.”

Joey’s hand tightened. “You’re surrounded, Viper. Who’s making mistakes here?”

“Which brings me to your fourth and worst mistake.” Vincent’s eyes turned to ice as he stood. “You pointed a gun at my woman.”

The temperature in the warehouse seemed to plummet. Marco hadn’t moved. I watched Joey’s face contort with rage, his fingers tightening around his gun.

“What bullshit are you spouting, Viper?” Joey’s voice cracked.

Vincent took one last drag of his cigar before crushing it under his shoe. His eyes locked onto Joey’s, cold and predatory. “Boys, I think we’re done with this little act. Do your jobs.”

The sound of dozens of guns shifting filled the warehouse. My breath caught as Joey’s men turned their weapons away from us, training them instead on Joey and Thomas.

“What- what is this?” Thomas stumbled backward, his designer suit soaked with sweat. “Joey, what’s happening?”

Joey’s face drained of color as he spun in a circle, finding himself surrounded by his own men.

Vincent rose from his chair, “You see, Joey, there’s something you should understand.” He straightened his tie, the gesture casual yet somehow menacing. “In this country, there isn’t a single person who’d dare move against me. Every man you thought was yours?” He spread his arms wide. “They’ve been mine all along.”

The warehouse fell silent except for Thomas’s ragged breathing and Joey’s string of curses. I sat frozen, watching the scene unfold like a carefully orchestrated dance.

“Impossible,” Joey whispered, but his trembling hands betrayed his fear.

“Nothing’s impossible for the Viper.” Vincent’s voice carried through the backward, his designer suit soaked with sweat. “Joey, what’s happening?”

Joey’s face drained of color as he spun in a circle, finding himself surrounded by his own men.

Vincent rose from his chair, “You see, Joey, there’s something you should understand.” He straightened his tie, the gesture casual yet somehow menacing. “In this country, there isn’t a single person who’d dare move against me. Every man you thought was yours?” He spread his arms wide. “They’ve been mine all along.”

The warehouse fell silent except for Thomas’s ragged breathing and Joey’s string of curses. I sat frozen, watching the scene unfold like a carefully orchestrated dance.

“Impossible,” Joey whispered, but his trembling hands betrayed his fear.

“Nothing’s impossible for the Viper.” Vincent’s voice carried through the warehouse. “You should have done your homework before trying to play in my league.”

I watched Vincent step closer to Joey, his movements fluid and predatory. My heart hammered against my ribs.

“You know what’s funny, Joey?” Vincent’s voice carried a hint of amusement. “You walked right into this. Just like I knew you would.”

Joey’s face twisted with rage and fear. “You bastard-”

Marco appeared at Vincent’s side, pressing a sleek black handgun into his palm. The metal caught the light as Vincent’s fingers wrapped around the grip.

“The thing about revenge?” Vincent lifted the gun. “It’s sweeter when your enemy realizes their mistake.”

“Wait-” Joey’s plea cut through the air.

The gunshot cracked like thunder in the enclosed space. Joey stumbled backward, crimson blooming across his chest – the same spot where he’d shot my grandfather. His eyes went wide with recognition before he crumpled to the ground.

I gripped the arms of my chair, my knuckles white. The metallic scent of blood filled the air as Joey’s body twitched once, then lay still.

Vincent lowered the gun, his face a mask of cold satisfaction. “For Dominic,” he whispered, but in the silence of the warehouse, everyone heard.

Thomas whimpered in the corner, pressing himself against the wall like he could sink through it. His designer suit was ruined, stained with sweat and dirt. The warehouse fell silent except for the echo of Vincent’s footsteps as he moved back toward me. His eyes found mine, softening just slightly at the edges.

Marco collected the gun from Vincent’s hand, tucking it away beneath his jacket. The other men remained still, their weapons trained on Thomas’s trembling form.

Vincent’s eyes met mine, a flicker of regret crossing his features. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Cheryl.” He gestured toward Thomas. “What do you want me to do with him?”