Chapter 174
Chapter 174
The next morning.
The snow in Zurich had stopped.
After breakfast at the estate, I left with Antonio and a team of bodyguards.
Though the Corleone family's empire was vast, I had no intention of being a kept woman.
Starlight Entertainment in New York was already on track. I planned to rebuild my own business empire in Europe as well.
I spent the morning inspecting several commercial properties in downtown Zurich and along the lakefront.
The European market differed from New York—aristocratic families monopolized most resources. But that wasn't a problem for me.
With money and the Corleone family's backing, any barrier could be smashed through.
After viewing the last property, I got back in the car and called Boya.
It was the middle of the night in New York. She answered after two rings.
"Miss Elena." Boya's voice carried a trace of exhaustion.
"How's the company doing back home?" I watched the streetscape slide past the window, my tone calm. "Thomas and Nicole's series should be wrapping soon. Keep up with the promotional rollout. Also, send me a detailed financial report on the studio's cash flow."
"Everything's running smoothly. The production is on schedule too." Boya finished her report, then paused.
I heard her heavy breathing through the line. She seemed hesitant to continue.
"Speak your mind," I said, frowning slightly.
"It's about... Michael." Boya bit out the name, her voice laced with undisguised disgust and panic. "He's lost his mind."
Michael.
That Wall Street psychopath with severe sadistic tendencies.
Back in New York, Sophia had drunk the drugged wine meant for me and ended up half-dead from Michael's torture.
"What's he done?" I asked coldly.
"He's been searching for you everywhere." Boya took a deep breath, her words rushing out. "I don't know how, but he found out you'd left New York. For the past few days, he's been paying major media outlets and dark web forums to post missing person notices. Not only that, he publicly posted a video on Twitter..."
Boya hesitated, as if the words were hard to say. "In the video, he publicly declared his love for you. He said... he said he won't accept any woman but you for the rest of his life. He called Sophia an inferior substitute, and said only you are his perfect work of art."
Hearing this made my stomach churn violently. Nausea surged up my throat.
I nearly vomited on the spot.
That sick old pervert had set his sights on me. Sophia's ordeal was still fresh in memory, yet instead of restraining himself, he'd escalated—spouting his twisted fantasies online.
"Send me the original video," I said, forcing down the disgust, my eyes cold as ice. "Also, notify security to heighten protection around Starlight Entertainment. Don't let Michael's people get anywhere near the company."
"Understood." Boya quickly agreed.
After hanging up, I opened the video Boya sent.
On screen, Michael sat on a luxurious leather sofa, wine glass in hand. His debauched face wore a grotesquely oily, twisted smile.
"Elena, my little kitten." Michael gazed at the camera, eyes burning with nauseating fervor. "I know you've gone to Europe. That's fine. Wherever you run, I'll find you. You belong to me. Only I can give you true value."
I killed the screen immediately and tossed the phone onto the seat. The air pressure in the car dropped to freezing.
Antonio sat in the passenger seat. Sensing my mood shift, he glanced at me cautiously through the rearview mirror.
"Back to the estate," I ordered coldly.
The convoy returned to the estate.
Vincent was in his study handling munitions accounts for the European division. I pushed open the door, walked straight to his desk, and tossed my phone in front of him.
"What's wrong?" Vincent looked up. Seeing my expression, his brow immediately furrowed.
"See for yourself." I pulled out a chair and sat down, picking up the glass of ice water on his desk and taking a sip, trying to settle my stomach.
Vincent picked up the phone and opened the video.
The air in the study instantly froze.
As the video played, Vincent's aura became visibly terrifying.
Murderous intent churned in his coal-black eyes. The veins on his forehead bulged.
Before the video finished, Vincent hurled the phone against the wall.
The expensive custom phone shattered into pieces, components scattering across the floor.
He stood up, chest heaving violently, his entire body radiating bone-chilling violence.
"He's asking for death." Vincent ground out through clenched teeth, his voice like a demon crawling from hell's depths.
He grabbed the landline on his desk and dialed the New York division's direct line.
"Antonio!" Vincent roared into the phone. "Notify our people in New York immediately. Dig out that old bastard Michael! I want him to suffer!"
Vincent slammed down the phone. The oppressive atmosphere in the study remained thick.
Michael's provocation had completely enraged him. The killing intent in his eyes was nearly tangible.
To calm me down, he pulled open a drawer and pushed a black-and-gold unlimited credit card across the desk.
"Go buy whatever you like." He pinched the space between my brows, his voice still edged with undiminished ferocity. "Buy out all of Zurich if you want. Don't let that old bastard ruin your mood. As for New York, I'll make him wish he were dead."
I looked at the black card on the desk. I didn't refuse.
Starlight Entertainment's European division was just starting up. I needed to acquire a batch of premium raw stones and jewelry as flagship pieces for the new store.
Using Vincent's money to expand my business empire? I was more than happy to.
"I'm heading out then." I slipped the black card into my purse and leaned down to kiss his lips.
An hour later, the convoy stopped at Bahnhofstrasse's most prestigious private jewelry exchange.
This place didn't serve ordinary customers—only Europe's top financial dynasties and aristocracy.
Antonio followed behind me with eight fully armed bodyguards. Seeing the Corleone family crest, the manager immediately escorted me respectfully to the top-floor VIP room.
I sat on a velvet sofa. Before me, a black velvet tray displayed over a dozen perfectly cut South African raw diamonds.
The largest was a twenty-carat teardrop-shaped pink diamond of exceptional clarity.
I held my coffee, examining the diamond's fire through a magnifying glass.
Suddenly, sharp high-heel clicks and a woman's angry cursing echoed from outside the VIP room.
"Get out of my way! Do you know who I am? How dare you block me?"
A loud crash followed. The VIP room's heavy carved wooden door was violently shoved open from outside.
Antonio reacted instantly, drawing his gun and positioning himself in front of me. The bodyguards behind him immediately moved forward, blocking the intruding woman three steps away.