Chapter 11 - Ghosts of the Past
Two months had passed since Dominic's arrest and the complete consolidation of Vincent's empire. The city had returned to a tense, respectful equilibrium under the Corvino banner, and the mansion on the hill finally felt like a home rather than a gilded tomb.
It was a rainy Thursday afternoon when the past came knocking at the heavy oak front doors in the form of a sharp, indignant voice that Vincent hadn't heard in months.
Down in the private study, Vincent was reviewing property acquisitions on his tablet while Tessa organized the quarterly tax filings at the adjacent desk. Suddenly, the study door swung open without a knock.
It was Arya.
She looked entirely different from the poised, designer-clad socialite who had stormed out of the mansion months ago. Her hair was slightly disheveled, her raincoat damp from the downpour, and her eyes held a desperate, frantic edge. The five-karat diamond ring was still on her finger, though it looked somewhat out of place against her anxious posture.
"Vincent," Arya breathed out, stepping into the room before she realized who else was present. "Thank God you're—"
She stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes landed on Tessa, sitting comfortably at the desk in her emerald-green blazer, calmly organizing files. Arya's expression contorted instantly from desperation to profound, venomous disgust.
"You?" Arya sneered, pointing a trembling finger at Tessa. "You're still here? What is a glorified maid doing sitting at his desk?!"
Vincent didn't raise his voice. He didn't even stand up immediately. He simply swiveled his wheelchair slowly around, facing Arya with a gaze so cold it dropped the room temperature by ten degrees.
"Watch your tone, Arya," Vincent said, his voice a low, dangerous rasp. "She has a name. And she has more integrity in her little finger than you ever possessed in your entire body."
Arya's face flushed crimson with humiliation and anger. She turned her tear-filled, dramatic glare back onto Vincent, taking a few steps closer to the desk.
"You don't mean that, Vince! You're just angry because I left when things got hard!" Arya sobbed dramatically, clutching her chest. "Do you know what my life has been like for the past two months? Dominic is in federal prison, my social circle has completely cut me off because of the association, and everyone treats me like a pariah! I made a mistake, Vince. I panicked. But we're supposed to be married! We belong together!"
She reached out, trying to grab Vincent's hand, but before her fingers could brush his sleeve, Tessa stood up from the desk.
Tessa didn't raise her voice, nor did she make a threatening gesture. She simply stepped smoothly between Arya and Vincent, her posture immovable, her brown eyes locking onto Arya's frantic gaze with absolute, unshakeable calm.
"Miss Vane," Tessa said, her voice completely level and professional. "Mr. Corvino made it quite clear two months ago that your engagement was terminated. If you remain on private property without an invitation, I will be forced to call security—or better yet, notify the federal probation officers currently monitoring the perimeter of this estate."
Arya froze, staring at Tessa in sheer disbelief. "You... you low-class nobody! You think you've won something here? He's a cripple! The moment his money runs out or his legs get worse, he's just broken furniture, and you're nothing more than the nursemaid wiping up his mess!"
Before Vincent could launch his wheelchair forward or unleash the fury burning in his chest, Tessa spoke again. Her voice was as cold and sharp as winter ice.
"Mr. Corvino isn't broken furniture, Arya. He is a man who built an empire with his mind while you were too busy staring at your own reflection in a mirror. And as for me—I am exactly where I choose to be."
Arya opened her mouth to scream another insult, but the absolute authority radiating from both Vincent and Tessa choked the words in her throat. She looked at Vincent's unyielding, granite face, realizing with crushing finality that she had lost everything—not because Vincent was paralyzed, but because she had been too blind and shallow to see his true strength.
With a choked sob of rage and humiliation, Arya turned on her heel, her wet stiletto boots slipping slightly on the hardwood floor as she bolted out of the study, slamming the heavy oak door behind her with a resounding crash.
Silence reclaimed the room, thick and absolute.
Vincent exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair. He looked up at Tessa, a slow, profound warmth spreading through his chest.
May you like
"You handled her better than any of my enforcers ever could," Vincent said softly.
Tessa turned around, a faint, beautiful smile touching her lips as she looked down at him. "I told you, Mr. Corvino—I know how to clear the trash."
