She Told the Mafia Boss Not to Touch Her If He Was Ashamed, and His Answer Silenced Every Person in the Room

The rain had turned into a torrential downpour by midnight, washing away the blood on the asphalt outside the Moretti estate.

The grand ballroom, usually filled with laughing socialites and clinking crystal, was dead silent. The crystal chandeliers were dimmed.

Vincent stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the lightning split the Chicago sky. Behind him, tied to a wooden chair in the center of the room, sat Arthur Hale—Sabrina’s father, a man who had controlled the city's shipping lanes for decades, now reduced to a sweating, broken wreck with a bruised jaw.

Sabrina stood near the corner of the room, sobbing quietly, her gold silk gown stained with mud and tear tracks.

Emma stood beside Vincent, her hand laced securely through his. She wore a simple black coat over her clothes, her posture unwavering.

"You went too far, Vincent," Arthur Hale choked out, blood dripping from his lip. "You touch me, and my men will burn your entire empire to ash."

Vincent turned slowly from the window. He didn't look angry. He looked dangerously calm—the calm before a hurricane.

"Your empire is already ash, Arthur," Vincent said softly, his voice cutting through the silence of the cavernous room. "Your shipments are impounded. Your accounts are frozen. Your associates have already pledged their loyalty to me to save their own skin."

Arthur paled, his eyes widening in horror. "You... you dismantled forty years of work in forty-eight hours?"

"You threatened the wrong person," Vincent said simply, stepping forward until he stood towering over the seated man. "You sent men to a residential building. You put Emma in the line of fire."

Sabrina rushed forward, dropping to her knees in front of Vincent, clutching the hem of his trousers. "Vincent, please! Have mercy! Don't do this to my father. We grew up together! We belong together!"

Vincent looked down at her with absolute coldness.

"You never understood me, Sabrina," Vincent said, his voice devoid of any pity. "You loved the power, the name, and the status. You loved the idea of being a queen on a chessboard."

Vincent turned his head, looking down at Emma. The cold, ruthless mafia boss melted instantly, replaced by a man deeply, unconditionally in love.

"And I," Vincent continued, lifting Emma’s hand and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, "found someone who didn't give a damn about the chessboard at all."

Vincent looked back at Arthur and Sabrina. "Get out of Chicago by sunrise. If I ever see your faces in this city again, there won't be a negotiation."

Mateo and two other guards stepped forward, hauling Arthur to his feet and dragging him toward the exit. Sabrina scrambled up, shooting Emma one last look of pure, unadulterated hatred before fleeing into the night.

The heavy doors closed.