Chapter 4

I fixed my makeup and went downstairs, carrying a small clutch.

The living room was packed. Thirty of New York’s biggest sharks, all circling in my living room.

Marco was talking to Mr. Henderson. Isabella was by his side, smiling elegantly. My mother's bracelet was blinding under the lights.

"Elena!" Marco saw me and waved me over. "Come meet Mr. Henderson."

"Mr. Henderson, a pleasure," I said, shaking his hand politely.

"Marco always says you're a brilliant artist," Henderson said with a smile.

Just as the schmoozing hit its peak, Marco's assistant rushed over, panicked.

"Bad news! Mr. Johnson from Blackstone just called. He has an emergency board meeting. He can't make it tonight!"

The color drained from Marco's face. Johnson was his most important guest.

"What? Didn't they confirm?" Marco's voice was sharp.

Henderson frowned. "Johnson bailed last minute? That's not like him."

I watched Marco start to unravel. I felt nothing.

This was just the beginning.

Just then, a crew of thugs in cheap suits crashed the party.

"Marco Ricci, you son of a bitch!" one of them roared. "Where's our money? The return you promised on our investment!"

The room went silent.

Marco's face was white. "Who are you? Security!"

"We're your early investors!" another man shouted, pointing at Marco. "You took our money, and now that your company's gone public, you're trying to cut us out?"

Guests started whispering, giving Marco strange looks.

"That's nonsense!" Marco tried to stay calm. "I don't know you!"

"You don't?" The first man pulled out a stack of papers and waved them around. "Are these contracts fake? Marco Ricci, you're nothing but a goddamn con artist!"

Henderson's face turned to stone. He had a strict policy: never do business with anyone who brings drama to the table.

Isabella tried to stop the men but was shoved aside.

I used the chaos to quietly move toward the door.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" one of the men yelled to the crowd. "Watch out for this Marco Ricci! He scams small investors! Now that he's made it, he turns his back on us!"

Marco was in a full-blown panic. He started scuffling with them.

In the chaos, on my cue, a perfectly-timed shove sent a waiter stumbling—right into Marco's prized liquor cabinet.

CRASH!

His treasured 1947 Cheval Blanc shattered, bleeding out across the marble floor like a slaughtered animal.

"NO!!!" Marco let out a gut-wrenching scream. He scrambled toward the wreckage. "My wine! My Cheval Blanc!"

He fell to his knees, his hands trembling as he tried to pick up the shards. Blood dripped from his cut fingers.

The guests were stunned.

"And this is our so-called successful entrepreneur?"

"He can't even control his own party. What else can't he control?"

"I heard there were problems with his company's financials..."

Henderson's face was grim. He turned to his assistant. "We're leaving. This man isn't worth our time."

"Mr. Henderson! Wait!" Marco tried to chase him, but the floor was covered in broken glass and wine. He almost fell.

"Marco, Goldman Sachs doesn't do business with liabilities," Henderson's voice was ice. "And right now, you are a massive one." He turned and walked out.

Several other key investors made their excuses and left.

While everyone was focused on the chaos, I slipped out of the apartment.

A black Lincoln was waiting at the curb. The driver was already holding the door open.

"Boss," he said with a grim nod. "It's done."

"Good," I said, getting in. "Let's go."

The car pulled away smoothly.

In the rearview mirror, I could still see the chaos unfolding in the apartment building.

Half an hour later, the party was over.

The living room was a war zone. Only Marco and his family were left to survey the wreckage.

Marco sat on the sofa, head in his hands, completely hopeless.

"It's over... Johnson didn't show, Henderson left... all the follow-up deals are dead..."

Isabella sat beside him, trying to comfort him. "Marco, maybe it's just temporary..."

"You don't get it!" Marco looked up sharply. "Without these investments, the company's expansion is dead! We're going to have a cash flow problem!"

Sofia and Amelia were helplessly trying to clean up the mess.

"It's all their fault!" Amelia said angrily. "How dare they come here and make a scene?! It's slander!"

"Mom, now's not the time," Marco said, rubbing his temples. "I need to figure out how to fix this."

Just then, Sofia realized something.

"Brother, where's Elena? Where did she go?"

Marco froze. He just realized he hadn't seen Elena since the chaos began.

"Elena?" He looked around. "Wasn't she here?"

"I haven't seen her," Isabella said with a frown. "Not since those men started shouting."

Marco shot up and ran for the stairs.

"Elena! Elena!" he yelled, charging up to the second floor.

He threw open the bedroom door. The room was empty.

The closet was open. More than half of her clothes were gone.

On the vanity, Elena's jewelry box was missing.

Marco's heart stopped.

He rushed to the window. The street below was empty.

"No... impossible..." Marco collapsed onto the bed. "She can't leave me. Not now..."

"Marco!" Isabella yelled from downstairs. "Elena's really gone! Her coat and purse are gone too!"