Page 39 of Bound in Ruin

The atmosphere in the room detonates into pure hostility. Dante slams a fist on the desk, his composure completely shattering. "You arrogant little bitch! I will make sure you receive nothing—not a single fucking cent—from Luciano's will! I am going to the judge myself, and I will tell them the full truth about what you are!"

Rosalia just tilts her head, looking at him like he’s an annoying fly. "And why on earth would you think I would waste my time fighting you over Luciano's will? Why would I care about his money when I am already married to someone far richer... not to mention endlessly more desirable?"

I am fucking enjoying every single second of this back-and-forth.

Clearly, Rosalia is wiping the floor with him, and I am reaping all the collateral benefits. She’s called me young. She’s called me handsome. She’s called me rich and desirable.

Hell, I could sit in this air-conditioned office and listen to my wife brag about me all damn day.

"You filthy, dirty slut—" Dante spits out.

The world stops.

The smug smile wipes completely clean off my face. The lighthearted amusement evaporates, replaced by a dark, suffocating fury that turns the air in the room to ice.

Before the last word can even leave his fucking mouth, I go insane.

I rise in one fluid, terrifying motion and vault straight over the heavy mahogany desk, scattering documents and pen holders in every direction.

Before Dante can even draw a breath to react, my hand clamps around his throat, hauling his body up and slamming him backward against the wall with violent, bone-rattling force. The sharp crack of his head bouncing off the drywall echoes through the room, sending dust spiraling down into the light.

His eyes bulge, his hands scrambling frantically at my iron grip as he gagged for air. I press my weight into him, my face inches from his, letting him feel the suffocating heat of my rage.

"If you ever use that word to address my wife again," I whisper, my voice dangerously low, stripped of all humanity, "I won't just ruin you, Dante. I will take a pair of rusty shears and remove your fingers one by one. Do you understand me?"

I shove him back into the wall once more, for good measure, before releasing his throat. Dante collapses into his leather chair, coughing violently and clutching his neck.

Without another word, he scrambles up, glaring at us with pure, terrified hatred before storming straight out of his own office, slamming the heavy double doors behind him.

The walk back to the SUV is tense and quiet. As we step into the private parking garage, Rosalia’s lawyer hurries along beside us, adjusting his glasses and wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Mr. Kane, Mrs. Kane... while I appreciate the firm stance in there," the lawyer stammers, clutching his leather briefcase to his chest, "we have a significant problem. Legally speaking... Dante might actually be right."

Rosalia stops near the open rear door of the vehicle. I wait beside her as the lawyer fires off an explanation.

"Luciano’s preliminary estate filings were uncovered late last night," the lawyer explains cautiously, looking between the two of us. "There are specific clauses and heavy debt attachments. If Dante pushes this contested claim, Rosalia could be left with absolutely nothing. No inheritance, no property rights, no settlement from the estate."

My jaw tightens. I honestly don't give a damn about Luciano's money, but I refuse to let that scum rob my wife of what is rightfully hers out of spite.

Plus, if Rosalia is unable to get all the necessary documents in her name, it would pose a problem for me. The thought sends a frisson of annoyance up my spine. I will not let that happen. Ever.

I turn to face Rosalia, my eyes narrowing as my mind starts working through every legal and personal angle.

"How was the marriage structured?" I ask, stepping closer and lowering my voice. "Did Luciano have you sign a prenuptial agreement before the wedding?"

Rosalia frowns, thinking back. "I... I signed a stack of papers at his lawyer's office a week before the ceremony. He told me it was standard procedure for the family assets."

"Did your own independent counsel review those papers before you put pen to paper?" I press, looking at her lawyer.

"No, sir," the lawyer admits, looking down. "At the time, the late Mr. Caruso handled all legal representation internally."

"Unbelievable," I mutter, turning back to Rosalia. "What about the secondary accounts? Properties titled under your name directly? Did he transfer anything to you as a dowry or marital gift during the marriage?"

Rosalia shakes her head slowly, a quiet frustration settling into her eyes. "Nothing directly. Everything was kept secret. He controlled every cent."

"Then we hit them somewhere else," I say, my voice hardening as a cold, strategic plan begins to form. "If Dante wants to play dirty with Luciano's estate, we'll drag every single hidden ledger, every offshore asset, and every piece of dirty laundering Luciano ever engaged in into open probate court. Let’s see how much Dante likes the legal system when it starts dismantling the entire De Lorenzo empire piece by piece."

CHAPTER TWELVE