Chapter 3

A black Mercedes-Maybach pulled up in front of the shop, its horn blaring.

The door opened, and Marco climbed out, leaning on a custom silver-topped cane.

The moment Leo spotted his father, he lowered his fist but immediately launched into another complaint.

"Dad, this bitch has been mooching off us for ten years, and now she's gone next door to place a ten-million-euro order!

"She's doing it just to humiliate us!"

Marco ignored his son and turned to me.

He forced a stiff smile.

"Ah, Ms. Whitmore."

He came over and reached out to pat my shoulder.

I stepped aside, leaving his hand hanging awkwardly in the air.

"Young lady, what's gotten into you? When did you become so quick to lose your temper?

"Leo's young and doesn't know any better. He crossed the line, and I'm sorry for that.

"But..."

Then his tone changed, and he sighed.

"You haven't exactly handled this well yourself.

"Ten years ago, your little purchasing office was barely scraping by. You stretched every penny.

"I felt sorry for you, a young woman trying to make it on her own in a foreign city. That's why I gave you my best prices and let you inspect whatever leather you wanted, whenever you came in.

"If I hadn't helped you get back on your feet, do you honestly think you'd be where you are today?

"You should never forget the people who helped you along the way.

"Now that you've made a little money, you think you're too good for me? You think you can just cut me out?"

Marco turned the sapphire ring on his finger and fixed me with a cold stare.

"Look me in the eye and tell me I've ever treated you unfairly."

The leather dealers watching from the doorway started chiming in again.

"Marco's right."

"He helped her for ten years, and now that she's made it, she turns her back on him."

"What an ingrate! She doesn't have a shred of decency."

Listening to Marco's lecture, my stomach churned.

Disgusting.

Absolutely disgusting.

He could pass off junk as premium leather and call it "looking out for me."

He'd spent a decade taking advantage of me, only to turn around and claim I owed him everything.

And now he wanted me to be grateful? My conscience was perfectly clear. His had rotted away a long time ago.

I took a deep breath and swallowed my disgust. When I spoke, my voice was steady.

"Marco.

"For ten years, you did let me test whatever I wanted.

"But in every shipment you delivered to our warehouse, the bottom two layers were packed with defective hides disguised with chemical treatments and cheap finishes.

"I never confronted you about it. I simply picked out the rejects and threw them away."

I paused and watched his face slowly stiffen. Then I said the next words carefully.

"I kept quiet out of respect for our long history. You're getting older, and I wanted to spare you the embarrassment.

"But did you seriously think I was stupid enough to let you manipulate me with a few pretty words?" Marco's face flushed a deep, furious red.

His fingers froze on the ring.

The crowd outside erupted.

"Wait, he's been hiding defective hides at the bottom of his shipments?"

"I knew there was something wrong with his leather! I could never get the finish I wanted!"

"He's giving Milan's entire leather industry a bad name!"

Marco shoved his hand into his pocket, his face darkening.

"Ms. Whitmore, you'd better be careful what you say!"

He lowered his voice, his expression turning vicious.

"Richard Vance, Elysium Group's vice president of European procurement, had coffee with me just yesterday.

"All it takes is one phone call. I'll tell him your department has been buying counterfeit leather, and by tomorrow, Elysium Group will have fired you and sent you packing back to Asia!"

Leo snatched up the heavy leather-cutting cleaver beside him and advanced toward me, blade in hand.

I didn't move. I just looked at him coldly.

Leo stopped in front of me and slapped my cheek twice with the cold, flat side of the blade. Smack. Smack.

"Oh, you think you're tough?"

Then he suddenly spun around and charged toward the counter.

Elena was there, holding her son, shaking.

"Then I'll chop up this little brat first!"

He raised the cleaver high and laughed maniacally, the blade glinting in the dim yellow light.

Elena screamed and curled herself around her son, holding him tight.

In that instant, my blood ran cold.

"Leo!" I roared.

"Stop right now!"

Marco raised a hand to stop his son, then let out a cold, humorless laugh.

"I've been running things in Milan's leather district for 20 years, and I've always followed the rules.

"And around here, there's only one rule: if I want a deal, it's mine. Nobody else gets a piece of it.

"That ten million euros is coming to me, one way or another.

"And if any of you dare defy me, you won't make it off this street."

The moment he finished speaking, brakes screeched outside.

A black armored cash truck skidded to a stop and blocked Bottega Artigiana's door.