Billionaire Casts Away His Cruel Heiress Fiancée When She Scalds an Innocent Maid—Only to Discover the Maid’s True Identity Will Shatter High Society Forever!

Though Arthur Vance was held without bail at the Suffolk County Correctional Facility due to flight risk, Camille Vance had managed to secure emergency bail using the last three million dollars in her mother’s trust fund.

She was confined to her penthouse apartment with an electronic ankle monitor, stripped of her passport and access to corporate accounts. But a wounded, narcissistic viper is at its most dangerous when cornered.

Two nights after the boardroom takeover, I was working late in my private library while Elena was reviewing research grants in the sunroom.

Marco entered quietly, his expression grim. “Gabriel. We intercepted an encrypted transmission from Camille’s penthouse an hour ago.”

I set my pen down. “Who did she contact?”

“A mercenary crew operating out of Providence,” Marco reported, tossing a digital audio recorder onto my desk. “She paid them two million dollars in untraceable bearer bonds to eliminate Elena before the grand jury convenes on Friday. They are planning to hit Elena’s transport vehicle tomorrow morning when she visits her father at the hospital.”

A cold, murderous stillness settled over me.

Camille Vance had burned Elena with boiling tea in my house; she had framed Elena’s father; and now she dared to hire assassins to silence her.

“Where are the mercenaries staging?” I asked.

“An abandoned warehouse near the South Boston docks,” Marco replied. “Six men, heavily armed, preparing a stolen delivery van for a vehicular ambush.”

I stood up, adjusting my cufflinks. “Mobilize Tactical Team Alpha. We are not waiting for tomorrow morning.”

Twenty minutes later, three black armored SUVs rolled through the industrial wasteland of the docks without headlights.

The raid took exactly ninety seconds.

Moretti tactical operatives breached the warehouse doors with hydraulic rams, flashbang grenades illuminating the darkness. The six mercenaries, caught completely off-guard while loading automatic weapons, were disarmed, pinned to the concrete floor, and bound in zip-ties before they could fire a single shot.

I walked into the warehouse, the smoke from the flashbangs swirling around my boots.

The mercenary leader, a scarred man named Vance Cole, glared up at me through bruised eyes. “You can’t touch us, Moretti! We have rights!”

I knelt beside him, my voice devoid of any human warmth. “You accepted a contract to murder Elena Brooks. In my city, that is a death sentence.”

Cole’s bravado shattered as he looked into my eyes. “Wait! Wait! It was Camille Vance! She gave us the blueprints to your hospital route! She gave us the money! We have the audio recordings of her giving the kill order on an encrypted drive!”