Chapter 5 - The Crown Weighs Heavy on the Imposter
While Dominic scrambled to trace my vanishing footsteps, Sienna Blake was busy discovering the terrifying reality of what it meant to step into my shoes.
Draped in an expensive silk robe, she wandered through the sprawling master suite of the Chicago penthouse, admiring the breathtaking view of the skyline.
To her, winning Dominic Moretti was the ultimate triumph over every socialite in the city.
She imagined herself hosting high-society charity galas, draped in diamonds, ruling over the underworld elite as the undisputed queen of Chicago.
The heavy oak doors of the master suite swung open, and Dominic strode inside, his face dark as a gathering thunderstorm.
He didn’t even glance in Sienna’s direction as he tossed his suit jacket onto the velvet armchair.
“Dominic, darling, look at this walk-in closet,” Sienna trilled happily, stepping out of the bedroom with a designer handbag swung over her arm.
“It’s practically begging for a complete renovation.”
Dominic stopped dead in his tracks and turned slowly to face her.
His eyes were cold, devoid of any warmth or affection.
“Pack your bags, Sienna,” he said quietly.
Sienna froze mid-step, her smile instantly vanishing from her lips.
“What?” she laughed nervously, trying to brush off his ominous tone.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?”
“It’s not a joke,” Dominic replied, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper that rattled the glass windowpanes.
“You wanted my name.”
“You wanted my house.”
“You wanted my ring.”
He stepped closer to her, towering over her trembling frame like an executioner.
“But you are not, and will never be, Vivian.”
“Where is she?” Sienna stammered defensively, a sudden flash of panic overriding her arrogance.
“If she left, that’s her problem! You gave me her place!”
“I gave you nothing,” Dominic snarled, his patience finally snapping completely.
“You are nothing more than a temporary inconvenience that she didn't even bother to fight.”
Before Sienna could formulate another arrogant retort, the heavy security phone on the bedside table began to ring shrilly.
Dominic snatched the receiver off the hook, his eyes never leaving Sienna’s terrified face.
“Speak,” Dominic ordered into the mouthpiece.
“Boss, we traced the international flight manifest,” Marcus’s tense voice crackled through the secure line.
“She landed in Zurich six hours ago. She’s completely gone, sir.”
Dominic slammed the phone down onto the cradle, the plastic casing cracking under the sheer force of his grip.
He looked at Sienna with absolute disgust, realizing the catastrophic mistake he had made by underestimating the only woman who truly understood him.
“Get out of my sight,” Dominic commanded, pointing a rigid finger toward the elevator doors.
Sienna opened her mouth to protest, but one look at the homicidal fury burning in Dominic’s eyes sealed her lips.
She grabbed her designer handbag and fled the suite in absolute terror, realizing too late that the throne she had stolen was nothing more than a ticking time bomb.
Dominic walked slowly over to the floor-to-ceiling glass window, staring out at the gray Chicago sky.
For seven years, he had believed he held all the cards in the deck.
He had believed Vivian was a permanent fixture in his violent world, enduring every humiliation because she had nowhere else to go.
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Now, standing in an empty penthouse with a shattered empire looming before him, he finally understood the terrifying truth.
The queen hadn't been defeated.
