Chapter 6 - The Prenup
Marcus Vance looked up from the ancient, leather-bound ledger, clearly surprised to see a woman in an emerald gown entering the vault.
He quickly masked his surprise with a cold, predatory smile.
"I must admit, Dominic has excellent taste in distractions," Marcus said, closing the heavy book with a loud thud.
"Put the ledger down, Marcus," I demanded, trying to project an authority I absolutely did not feel.
Marcus laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed off the cold concrete walls of the archive.
He pulled a silver, suppressed pistol from his tailored tuxedo jacket and pointed it directly at my chest.
"A smart girl would have kept walking right out the front door," he mocked, stepping slowly toward me.
"Casey, get out of there right now!" Dominic shouted through my earpiece, the sound of a vehicle engine revving in the background.
I stood my ground, knowing that if I ran, Marcus would shoot me in the back without a second thought.
"You cannot read the ledger anyway, Marcus, the dialect is entirely extinct," I bluffed, desperately buying time.
He paused, his eyes narrowing as he considered the truth in my bold statement.
"I do not need to read it, I just need to burn it so Dominic can never prove his ownership," he replied coldly.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out an expensive silver lighter, flicking it open with his thumb.
"If you burn that book, you destroy the only map to the syndicate's hidden offshore accounts," I lied flawlessly.
Marcus hesitated again, the immense greed in his eyes battling against his desire for immediate destruction.
"There are no offshore accounts mentioned in the treaty," he said, though his voice wavered slightly.
"How would you know, considering you just admitted you cannot translate it?" I challenged him confidently.
That single moment of hesitation was all the opening I needed to survive.
Suddenly, the heavy steel doors of the vault exploded completely off their hinges in a cloud of thick gray smoke.
Dominic stepped through the ruined doorway, his assault rifle raised and aimed directly at Marcus's head.
"Drop the gun, Marcus, or I will paint these ancient walls with your brains," Dominic ordered, his voice echoing like thunder.
Marcus slowly lowered his pistol, a look of pure, unadulterated hatred crossing his face.
"You cannot win a war against my family, Russo," Marcus spat, tossing the ledger onto the floor.
"I am not trying to win a war, I am just protecting my translator," Dominic replied smoothly.
He kept his rifle trained on Marcus while gesturing for me to pick up the heavy book.
I grabbed the ledger, clutching it tightly against my silk dress as my hands trembled violently.
"Let us go, Casey," Dominic instructed, walking backward to keep his weapon aimed at his enemy.
We rushed out of the archive and into the chaotic Manhattan night, slipping perfectly into a waiting getaway car.
I sat in the backseat, breathing heavily as I traced my fingers over the embossed cover of the ancient ledger.
"Open it," Dominic commanded, turning on the small reading light in the back of the car.
I carefully opened the fragile pages, my eyes scanning the faded German handwriting written decades ago.
May you like
I stopped breathing entirely as I translated the very first sentence on the master page.
"Dominic," I whispered in absolute terror, "your father did not sign this treaty."
