She Knocked the Poisoned Wine From the Mafia Boss’s Hand and His Fiancée Ordered Her Arrested Before the Glass Stopped Rolling

Victoria Mercer was a woman carved from ice and old money. At sixty, her face was pulled tight by expert cosmetic surgery, her hair styled in an immaculate platinum bob, and her throat adorned with three strands of South Sea pearls.

She sat on the white leather sofa in Dominic’s receiving room, her diamond-encrusted cane resting between her knees. But behind her rigid posture, Claire could see the telltale signs of ruin: the slight tremor in her fingers, the hollow exhaustion beneath her foundation, and the absence of her usual entourage.

When Dominic and Claire entered together, Victoria’s eyes flicked to Claire. There was a brief flicker of aristocratic disdain, quickly extinguished by the cold reality of her family’s utter defeat.

“Dominic,” Victoria began, her voice brittle. “You’ve destroyed my husband. You’ve humiliated my daughter. The Mercer name is being dragged through the gutter in every boardroom from Wall Street to Geneva.”

“Your husband destroyed himself when he agreed to a murder plot, Victoria,” Dominic said coldly, remaining standing. “And your daughter poured the poison. You should be grateful I haven’t had both of them thrown into the East River.”

“Evelyn is a fool!” Victoria snapped, striking her cane against the marble floor. “She was reckless, arrogant, and blinded by jealousy! She thought she could outplay you! But I didn't come here to beg for her.”

Claire tilted her head. “You’re here to save yourself.”

Victoria looked at Claire, her lips thinning into a venomous line. “You have quite the nose, Miss Bennett. The beechwood wax residue... Levinson told Arthur how you isolated it. You ruined a five-year operation in five minutes.”

“Your daughter tried to frame me for murder,” Claire replied, her voice steady and unapologetic. “Did you expect me to apologize for being competent?”

Victoria turned back to Dominic, opening a small crocodile-skin briefcase. “The Chicago syndicate—Salvatore Moretti—he was the one who funded the initial strike on your Newark shipping yards last summer. He gave Arthur the cyanide. He promised Arthur that once you were dead, Chicago would back the Mercer family as the new rulers of the northern shipping corridor.”

Dominic didn’t flinch. “I know.”

Victoria blinked, caught off guard. “You know?”

“I’ve known Salvatore was moving into New York for six months,” Dominic said smoothly. “What he didn't realize is that Arthur was sloppy. When Arthur used your cosmetic laboratories to store the compound, my men were already tracking the shipments. I was waiting for Arthur to make his move so I could legally dismantle his empire without initiating a full-scale turf war with the Five Families.”

Dominic leaned down, placing both hands on the glass coffee table, bringing his face inches from Victoria’s.

“Your family wasn’t the mastermind, Victoria. You were bait. Salvatore used your greed to test my defenses. And you failed so completely that Salvatore cut all ties with your husband two hours ago.”

Victoria’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands gripped the cane until her knuckles turned white. “Salvatore... abandoned us?”

“Arthur’s accounts in Chicago have been frozen,” Dominic whispered, his voice like the kiss of a razor blade. “The Mercer name is dead. Your company is bankrupt. And tomorrow, federal marshals will arrive at your Long Island lab to seize every asset under the Patriot Act for trafficking restricted chemical precursors.”

Victoria sat frozen, the reality of absolute devastation crushing her last ounce of pride.

“What do you want from me?” she whispered, broken.

Dominic stood upright, straightening his cuffs. “I want you to take your disgraced daughter and leave this continent. Buy a villa in the south of Italy. Never set foot in New York again. If I see Evelyn’s face within fifty miles of Claire Bennett, I won't call the police. I will send Mason.”

Victoria looked from Dominic to Claire. For a brief second, the proud socialite looked entirely hollow.