THE MAFIA BOSS SAW HIS PREGNANT MAID CARRYING A HEAVY SUITCASE—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SCREAMED, “DON'T OPEN IT!”

While a private jet carrying Vincent’s medical team and security detail rushed north toward Wisconsin to bring Grace home, Vincent remained behind for two hours to finish what had started on the staircase.

In the basement level of the Moretti estate—a soundproofed former wine cellar converted into a high-security interrogation suite—Richard Sterling sat bound to a steel chair.

His expensive suit was ruined. His aristocratic confidence had completely evaporated.

Vincent stood across from him behind a metal table. Between them lay the small wooden box that Richard’s men had stolen from my ransacked apartment hours earlier.

“You thought this was Daniel’s only leverage,” Vincent said quietly.

Richard looked at the box, his breathing shallow. “The box was empty. It just had that taunting note.”

“Because Daniel knew how you operated, Richard,” Vincent said. “You’re a paper pusher. You’re a lawyer who believes that destroying a document destroys the reality.”

Vincent pulled a silver thumb drive from his pocket.

“Daniel didn't keep the digital files in his apartment,” Vincent said. “He hid this inside the frame of my late father’s portrait in the entrance hall—the very portrait you walked past every time you came to this house to drink my whiskey and plan my murder.”

Richard’s eyes widened in horror.

Vincent plugged the drive into a ruggedized laptop on the table. He hit play.

A high-definition audio recording filled the room. The audio was crystal clear.

*“Make sure the drop looks like an industrial accident,”* Richard Sterling’s voice played through the speakers, sharp, cold, and unmistakable. *“Bennett has become a liability. He knows too much about the Sterling Trust's offshore holdings, and he’s asking questions about the girl in Pine Ridge. Push him off the top deck during the late shift. Make sure the fuel line leaks so there’s a fire. I want nothing left of him.”*

The hitman’s voice replied: *“Understood, Mr. Sterling. Consider it done.”*

Vincent closed the laptop with a quiet click.

“That recording has already been transmitted to the United States Attorney’s Office for the Northern District of Illinois,” Vincent said. “Along with the full forensic banking logs proving you embezzled eighty million dollars from the Moretti foundation to pay for your political bribes.”

Richard’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“You took four years of my daughter’s life,” Vincent said, his voice devoid of any warmth. “You made my wife live in a frozen cabin in Canada thinking I wanted her dead. You murdered a brave young man whose only crime was having a conscience. And you tried to force his pregnant widow to miscarry on my stairs.”

“Vincent... please,” Richard gasped, breaking into a desperate sob. “I’m old. I’ll die in prison. Think of Vanessa! She loved you!”

“Vanessa is currently in the custody of federal marshals,” Vincent said coldly. “She signed a full confession ten minutes ago in exchange for avoiding a life sentence. She gave you up, Richard. Just like you gave up everyone who ever trusted you.”

Vincent turned his back on him and walked toward the heavy steel door.

“Enjoy the rest of your life in a supermax facility,” Vincent said, never looking back. “Because every guard in that prison knows who Daniel Bennett was. And they know what you did.”