Chapter 8 - The Poisoned Crown
Two years passed like a slow, bleeding wound in Las Vegas.
The glitz and glamour of the Bellagio had turned into a desperate facade of struggling survival for Dante Moretti.
The gaming commission's freeze had crippled forty percent of his revenue streams, forcing him to take high-interest loans from rival syndicates in Chicago and New York to keep his operations afloat.
His name, once whispered with terror and respect, had become a cautionary tale among the five families: the boss who got outmaneuvered and abandoned by his own wife.
Inside the Summerlin penthouse, the atmosphere had deteriorated into an unbearable domestic hell.
Lily sat at the marble kitchen island, nursing a glass of white wine while little Isabella, now two years old, cried upstairs in the nursery under the care of a hired nanny.
Lily had gotten the mansion, the diamonds, and the husband she had stolen from her older sister, but she had quickly discovered that the prize was rotten to the core.
Dante never smiled at her.
He never held her hand in public.
Whenever he looked at Lily, his eyes held only a bitter, silent accusation, reminding her that she was the living symbol of his greatest failure.
The front door slammed shut, and Dante walked into the foyer, his face drawn, his hair noticeably streaked with gray at the temples.
"Dante, where were you?" Lily demanded, her voice shrill and slurred from the alcohol.
"Isabella had a high fever all afternoon, and you didn't even answer your phone!"
"I was in meetings trying to stop the Chicago families from foreclosing on our Mirage equity," Dante replied coldly, not even glancing in her direction as he threw his briefcase onto the couch.
"The Mirage equity?" Lily sneered, jumping up from the stool.
"That's all you care about! Numbers! Casinos! Legal battles!"
"What about me, Dante?"
"What about our daughter?"
"You haven't touched me in six months!"
"You sleep in the guest suite every single night!"
Dante stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face her with a gaze so frigid it felt like a draft from a tomb.
"I pay for your nanny, your wardrobe, your mother’s apartment in Reno, and your daughter’s private medical care," Dante said through clenched teeth.
"Do not dare ask me for affection, Lily."
"You knew exactly what I was when you crawled into my bed behind Claire’s back."
"You wanted the mob boss's wife title?"
"You have it."
"Wear the crown, Lily, even if it cuts your skull to pieces."
"You're still in love with her!" Lily screamed, tears of hysterical rage breaking through her composure.
"She abandoned you! She took your money and humiliated you in front of the entire country!"
"She didn't care about you at all!"
"She cared enough to never lie to me," Dante roared, his voice shaking the crystal chandeliers above them.
"She stood by my side when three federal indictments hung over my head!"
"She never asked for a dime, she never embarrassed my name, and she never whined like a spoiled brat!"
"You gave me a child, Lily, but you took away the only woman who made me feel like an honorable man."
Before Lily could scream another insult, Marco stepped into the foyer through the private elevator, his breathing ragged, holding a fresh courier envelope stamped with red Swiss seals.
"Boss," Marco said, his voice trembling with an unmistakable urgency that instantly silenced the domestic shouting match.
"You need to see this."
"What is it, Marco?" Dante asked, turning away from Lily with profound relief.
"It's from the Nevada Real Estate Licensing Board and the Carson City Department of Land Management," Marco said, handing Dante the document.
"The mandatory three-year renewal deadline for the Bellagio and Mirage ground leases is set for next month."
"According to the state charter, if the master landlord does not sign the commercial renewal in person before the state board on October twenty-first, the land parcels will be automatically placed into public commercial auction."
Dante grabbed the document, his heart slamming violently against his chest as he read the final clause:
Notice of Personal Appearance: The registered owner and primary trustee of Nirvana Trust, Claire Bennett-Sterling, has formally registered her intent to attend the public regulatory session in person in Las Vegas.
Dante’s fingers crushed the parchment.
The breath in his lungs evaporated.
Claire Bennett-Sterling.
She was coming back.
After two years of absolute radio silence, after vanishing off the face of the earth, his wife was returning to the city he claimed to rule.
May you like
And the hyphenated name on the legal summons proved what his worst nightmares had feared:
Claire was no longer alone.
