Vincent's Fury

The mansion was quieter without Big Aunty's poisonous presence.

But the peace was fragile. Everyone knew the real battle was still ahead. Marcus Kane had Samantha. The clock was ticking. Every minute that passed was another minute Samantha was in danger.

Dante gathered his men in the war room—a space Cassandra had never seen before. Maps covered the walls. Weapons lined the tables. Marco stood by the door, his arm still bandaged, his face pale but determined. Adrian and Daniel arrived an hour earlier, ready to help. Even Evan was there, his arm still in a sling, refusing to be left out.

Cassandra watched them plan, her heart heavy. She was terrified for Samantha. Terrified for all of them. But she couldn't show it. Not now. Not when they needed her to be strong.

---

The door burst open.

Vincent stormed into the room, his face purple with rage. His eyes swept over the gathered men—Dante, Marco, Evan, Adrian, Daniel—and his lip curled.

"What is this?" he demanded. "A war council? In my house?"

Dante didn't flinch. "It's not your house anymore."

Vincent's eyes narrowed. "I heard about your aunt. You banished her. Your own family."

"She betrayed us. She was working with Marcus Kane."

"I don't care." Vincent stepped closer, his voice rising. "You don't get to make those decisions. You don't get to tear this family apart."

"You tore this family apart," Dante said quietly. "When you chose Marcus Kane over your own son."

---

Vincent turned to Cassandra.

His eyes were cold, calculating. She'd seen that look before—the look of a man who saw her as a problem to be solved, not a person to be respected.

"This is your fault," he said. "You brought this on us. Your mother brought this on us. You're just like her—a troublemaker who destroys everything she touches."

Cassandra stepped forward, her voice steady. "My mother was a hero. She died trying to expose the truth. You're the coward who let her die."

Vincent's face reddened. He raised his hand as if to strike her.

Dante caught his wrist.

"Touch her," he said, his voice deadly quiet, "and I'll kill you."

---

Vincent laughed bitterly.

"You think you can threaten me? I made you. Everything you are, everything you have—it's because of me."

"No." Dante's voice was ice. "Everything I am is because I chose to be better than you."

Vincent stared at him. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—guilt, maybe. Or regret. Then it was gone.

"You're making a mistake," Vincent said. "You'll regret this."

"I already regret not standing up to you sooner."

Vincent pulled his wrist free. He looked around the room—at Marco, at Evan, at Adrian and Daniel. No one moved to help him. No one spoke.

He was alone.

---

Vincent left, slamming the door behind him.

The room was silent. No one spoke for a long moment.

Then Evan broke the silence. "He's going to do something stupid. I know that look."

Dante nodded. "We need to move fast. Before Vincent does something that gets us all killed."

Cassandra looked at him. "What about Samantha?"

"We get her back. Tomorrow. No more waiting."

---

They spent the night preparing.

Weapons were checked. Plans were reviewed. Everyone knew their role. Dante would lead the assault. Marco would coordinate from the command center. Adrian and Daniel would provide backup. Evan would stay behind, coordinating communications.

Cassandra would be there—but she would stay in the car, away from the fighting. She'd argued, of course. She wanted to be on the front lines. But Dante wouldn't hear of it.

"You're too important," he said. "If something happens to you—"

"I know." She touched his face. "I'll stay in the car."

---

Cassandra couldn't sleep.

She sat by the window, staring at the stars. The mansion was quiet, the world outside dark and still.

Dante found her there. He didn't speak. He just sat beside her, his hand finding hers.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"I know. So am I."

"What if we don't make it?"

He pulled her close. "We will. Because we have each other. And that's more than Marcus Kane will ever have."

She leaned into him, her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence, watching the stars.

---

The next morning, a package arrived at the mansion.

No return address. No name. Just a plain box, wrapped in brown paper.

Cassandra opened it with trembling hands.

Inside was a single item.

Samantha's bracelet. The one she never took off.

And a note, written in Marcus Kane's handwriting:

Come alone. Or she dies.