Chapter 155
The cold dagger pressed tightly against her carotid artery, the chill of death piercing through Jennifer Wells' skin like the finest needle, reaching straight to her pounding heart.
Vitale leaned in slightly, his voice low and menacing, "Take us to see your mistress. I have some things I want to say to her in person."
Jennifer trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face as she stammered through sobs, "Okay, sir, please don't let your hand shake. My neck is very fragile."
In her mind, she cursed herself a thousand times. If she hadn't been captivated by that face, how could she have ended up in this mess?
Vitale remained unmoved by Jennifer's pleas.
With his other hand, he quickly gestured toward the door and barked, "Victor, get in here, don't dawdle."
Victor, who had been keeping a sharp eye on the outside, immediately slipped in, quietly closing the small door that had been kicked in. Though the lock was broken, it could at least temporarily hide the chaos inside.
He whispered, "What's the plan?"
While maintaining control over the maid, Vitale pulled out another encrypted phone from his pocket, swiftly dialed a number, and issued a brief command to the person on the other end, "Stay in position, don't come closer, don't drive in. Keep an eye on the cargo in the car, and watch every exit of this house. Don't let even a fly get out. Report any unusual activity immediately."
"Yes, boss," came the crisp reply from the other side.
Vitale hung up and stuffed the phone back into his pocket.
His movements were smooth and calm, a strange contrast to the madness swirling in his eyes and the murderous aura radiating from him.
Holding Jennifer hostage, he moved slowly but determinedly along the corridor toward the main hall of the villa.
Victor followed closely, his hand resting on the gun holster at his waist, his gaze sharp.
"Jennifer? What's going on out there? I heard a loud noise!" A slightly panicked middle-aged woman's voice came from the top of the stairs, accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps coming down.
Soon, a woman in her fifties, wearing a silk robe with slightly messy hair, appeared at the turn of the staircase.
She had clearly been startled by the loud bang of the door being kicked in and the faint screams that followed.
As she descended the last few steps, she saw her maid being held at knifepoint by a tall, unfamiliar man, with another stranger standing nearby. The side door of her home was obviously broken by force.
She froze on the spot, her face turning pale, eyes widening as she instinctively covered her mouth to stifle the scream about to escape.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Annie Collins," Vitale spoke first, even giving a slight nod in an almost polite gesture, "I think you might know why we're here."
Annie's heart raced, nearly bursting out of her chest.
She forced herself to stay calm, but her voice still trembled uncontrollably, "Who are you? What do you want? Let Jennifer go! This is a private residence! I'm calling the police!"
"Calling the police?" Vitale repeated the words softly, the corner of his mouth curling into a cold smirk, "Of course, you can try. But I promise, before the police arrive, some things will happen here that you definitely don't want to see."
He took a step forward. Though there was still some distance between them, the invisible pressure made Annie instinctively step back half a pace, her back pressing against the stair railing.
"We're tracking a few people, some very important guests to us," Vitale continued in a calm yet chilling tone, "The last place their signal disappeared points very precisely to this villa of yours. So, I'd like to ask, Mrs. Collins, have a few unfriendly guests come in and then vanished? Or are they currently 'visiting' in your villa?"
"If they are your guests, I'd like to meet them. There are things we need to discuss face-to-face. And if you can't make that decision..." He paused for a moment before continuing, "perhaps your husband can come and talk. Is that possible?"
Vitale's questioning tone, paired with the unhidden intent to kill in his eyes, only made him seem more terrifying.
Annie felt her legs going weak.
Having navigated the political and business worlds alongside her husband, Harold Collins, for many years, she had seen her fair share of tough situations and shady characters. But never had she encountered someone like the man before her—speaking seemingly reasonable words while exuding an aura of destruction that threatened to drag everything into a bloody abyss.
She had no doubt that if her answer didn't satisfy him, the dagger at Jennifer's throat would be stained with blood in the next second.
Swallowing her fear, Annie tried to maintain some dignity and room for negotiation, "I... I need to... go inside and ask my husband. Is that okay? I need to confirm..."
"You want to go inside and ask?" Vitale interrupted, shaking his head, "Of course, that's fine, but..."
He slightly shifted the dagger in his hand, the blade pressing a more noticeable mark into the fragile skin of Jennifer's neck.
Jennifer let out a short, terrified sob, squeezing her eyes shut.
"But if you take too long inside, or if I hear anything I don't like—say, the sound of a police call being dialed or some secret signal to summon bodyguards," Vitale's voice suddenly turned icy, "then this Jennifer might no longer need to serve in your villa. You might not care about a maid's life, but..."
He tilted his head slightly, as if picturing the scene, "Using her blood to stain the carpet of this beautiful living room, or the stairs, I think that sight would make you scream even louder than you are now, don't you think?"
It was a blatant threat.
Annie's last line of defense crumbled completely.
Looking at Jennifer's pale face and the blade so close to her throat, she had no doubt Vitale meant every word.
She didn't want to see blood, and she definitely didn't want to provoke this madman.
"Yes," Annie's voice trembled with resignation and fear, "I'm very scared, so, sir, what do you want me to do?"
Vitale seemed pleased with her cooperation and tilted his head toward Victor, "Watch her."
Victor immediately stepped forward, taking over control of Jennifer from Vitale.
Vitale released his grip, flexed his wrist, then straightened up and adjusted the slightly disheveled front of his suit.
The action seemed utterly bizarre in the current situation.
He walked toward Annie, stopping a few steps away from her.
"I think now you can call your husband. Tell him some unexpected guests are at home with an urgent matter regarding mutual friends, and he needs to come back immediately. What do you think of that idea, Mrs. Collins?"
Annie, clutching her still-pounding chest, nodded repeatedly, "Yes, yes, that's a good idea. I'll call him right now."
With trembling hands, she pulled her phone from the pocket of her robe and dialed.
After a few rings, the call was answered.
Annie tried to make her voice sound normal, but the fear and urgency still seeped through, "Harold, it's me, Annie. Honey, can you come home now? There are some guests here who want to talk to you about something important. You need to come back right away."
She listened to the response on the other end, her face growing even grimmer, as if her husband was asking something she struggled to answer.
Glancing at Vitale's expressionless face, she bit her lip and spoke into the phone, "It's about some things with Elliot, and some people you might know. They're here at home waiting. Please come back as soon as you can. I can't handle this alone."
She said a few more words, then hung up and cautiously looked at Vitale, "He said he'll be back soon, in about twenty minutes."
Vitale nodded.
Then, as if catching onto something crucial, his brow furrowed slightly, and he repeated a name Annie had mentioned, "Harold?"
Annie blinked, confused, but nodded, "Yes, my husband, Harold."
A sharp glint flashed in Vitale's eyes as he confirmed again, "Harold, the one competing with Elliot in the governor's primary election?"
Annie was a bit puzzled by his question, but since he already knew Harold's identity, there was no point in hiding it. She nodded again, "Yes, that's him. Do you know my husband?"
Vitale didn't answer her question.
The corner of his mouth slowly curled into a cold, mocking smile.
"Perfect. He's exactly the person I'm looking for."
Victor, standing nearby, also seemed to realize something, a flicker of excitement and clarity passing through his eyes.
He recalled the mysterious overseas anonymous account and the encrypted marker pointing to Elliot.
At first, they thought it was a setup targeting Elliot, or at least related to him.
Vitale had just met with Elliot in person and mostly ruled out his direct involvement.
So, who else would have the motive, the means, and stand to gain from taking down Elliot?