Chapter 7 - The Cleansing of the Estate
By four o'clock in the afternoon, the rain had stopped, leaving behind a cold, biting wind that swept the dead leaves across the grounds of the Lake Forest mansion.
A large moving van sat idling near the service gate, guarded by four of Vittorio’s armed men. Household staff under the direction of Emma Clark were rapidly hauling out designer luggage, couture gowns, and personal vanity cases belonging to Bianca Ashcroft.
Not a single piece of jewelry, art, or furniture purchased with Rossi funds was permitted past the threshold.
Bianca and Eleanor were escorted down the front steps by Lev. Bianca was wrapped in a simple trench coat, her eyes vacant, stripped of all her arrogance, her pride, and her future. Behind them, Eleanor walked with a noticeable limp, unable to maintain her aristocratic posture without her walking cane.
“A private car will take you to your family cottage in Michigan,” Vittorio said, standing on the stone portico, looking down at them like an emperor surveying banished traitors. “You have forty-eight hours to vacate the state of Illinois. If either of you ever approaches my daughter, my staff, or my properties again, the federal warrants currently sitting on the Cook County prosecutor’s desk will be executed within five minutes.”
Bianca stopped at the bottom of the steps, turning her head slowly. “You will always be a criminal, Vittorio. You can buy all the estates you want, but you will always be a monster.”
“Perhaps,” Vittorio replied softly. “But my daughter will grow up knowing her father never allowed a wolf to sleep under her roof.”
The car doors slammed shut. The town car accelerated down the drive, followed closely by the moving van, their taillights disappearing through the iron gates before the massive metal bars swung shut and locked with a heavy, final clang.
Vittorio stood on the portico for a long moment, breathing in the cold, rain-washed air.
He turned around and walked back inside.
In the grand foyer, Marco Moretti stood waiting, his head bowed, his hands clasped nervously in front of his suit.
“Boss,” Marco whispered, his voice trembling. “I… I swear I didn't know the extent of what was happening. I thought it was just domestic friction—I was trying to protect the peace before the wedding—”
Vittorio didn't stop walking. As he passed Marco, he spoke without breaking his stride.
May you like
“You have one hour to clear your desk, Marco. Take your severance and leave Chicago. If I see your face in this county after sunset, Luca will not use zip-ties.”
Marco swallowed, turned pale, and scrambled toward the basement offices without uttering another word.
