The Billionaire’s One-Year Bride

chapter 15

Marcus froze, his foot hovering an inch above the polished floor. The color drained completely from his face, leaving him looking like a dry corpse under the glittering chandeliers.

"Offshore accounts?" Marcus stammered, his forced laugh sounding like dry leaves crunching underfoot. "Evelyn, darling, the stress of these last few years has clearly affected your imagination. There are no offshore accounts. Your father's estate was liquidated strictly according to corporate code—"

"Corporate code drafted by a law firm you retained three weeks before his death," Dante interrupted. His voice was a low, velvet hum that cut through the ambient ballroom noise like a scalpel. He didn't raise his voice, yet every word hit Marcus with the crushing weight of a falling safe. "We have the wire logs, Marcus. The Cayman accounts registered under your gardener's maiden name aren't as buried as you thought."

Marcus swallowed hard, his throat bobbing frantically. He looked around the ballroom for an ally, a friendly face among the city's councilmen and tech magnates, but the crowd had subtly dissolved into a wide, protective circle around them. Nobody wanted to stand downwind of a falling Moretti target.

"You're... you're bluffing," Marcus whispered, though his knees visibly shook.

"Dante Moretti doesn't bluff," Evelyn said softly, stepping closer until she could smell the cold sweat of panic radiating off her uncle. She tilted her head, her dark eyes flashing with the cold fury of a daughter who had spent ten years waiting for this exact second. "He deals in facts. And right now, the fact is that you have forty-eight hours to sign over every remaining share of the Vance industrial holdings back to my name, or my husband will hand your entire financial portfolio to the federal racketeering division."

Marcus stared at her, the mask of the untouchable corporate raider finally shattering entirely. He saw no mercy in her gaze—only the exact, calculated ice of the man standing beside her.

"You're insane," Marcus choked out, his voice cracking. "Both of you."

"Consider it a family reunion," Dante murmured, his amber eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "Sign the transfer papers by noon tomorrow, or you won't live long enough to spend another cent of what you stole."

Without waiting for an answer, Dante turned, wrapping his arm securely around Evelyn's waist, and guided her away from the trembling wreck of her uncle. The crowd parted instantly, the whispers trailing behind them like smoke in the wake of a wildfire.

As they stepped out of the grand ballroom and into the quiet, private corridor leading toward the exit, Evelyn let out a long, shuddering breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Did you actually have the Cayman wire logs?" she asked quietly, looking up at him as the heavy double doors closed behind them, cutting off the music.

Dante looked down at her, a faint, dark smirk touching the corner of his mouth. "Not yet. But Marcus didn't know that. And by midnight, my hackers will have pulled them anyway."

Evelyn stared at him, a strange mixture of awe and caution tightening her chest. She had walked into this gala as a reluctant pawn wrapped in silk, but as she looked at the man who had burned her enemies down with a single sentence, she realized something terrifying.

She hadn't just entered his war. She was starting to enjoy playing the game.