Chapter 12 - The Boxing Day Incursion: Uninvited Guests at the Penthouse Doors
The sun was barely cresting the jagged skyline of Manhattan on Boxing Day morning when the rude awakening came.
I was sitting at the marble kitchen island in one of Luca’s oversized cotton button-downs, nursing a mug of black coffee, while Luca was on a secure encrypted call in his private home office regarding the fallout from the Westchester dinner.
Suddenly, the private elevator chime echoed sharply through the penthouse.
I froze, setting my coffee mug down on the counter.
Usually, the elevator only chimed when Luca or authorized security personnel used the biometric scanner.
The heavy metal doors slid open.
Out stepped Julian Moretti, flanked by two burly security guards in dark suits.
Julian looked like a man who had not slept all night—his designer suit was slightly wrinkled, his tie loosened, and his eyes bloodshot with malice.
“Well, well, well,” Julian drawled, walking out into the living room and looking around with a sneer of absolute disgust.
“Domestic bliss in the sky. Who would have thought the untouchable Luca Moretti would fall for his own hired help?”
I stood up from the barstool, my posture stiffening as I faced him without flinching.
“You’re trespassing, Julian,” I said, my voice cold and steady, channeling every ounce of corporate authority I possessed.
“Turn around and get back in that elevator before I have security physically throw you out.”
Julian laughed—a harsh, grating sound.
“Security? Sweetheart, the men standing behind me are security. And they answer to the board of directors, not to my cousin’s new live-in plaything.”
Before I could open my mouth to call for Luca, the heavy door of the private home office clicked open.
Luca stepped out into the hallway.
He wasn't wearing a suit—just a dark gray sweater and black lounge pants—but the look on his face was so terrifyingly lethal that Julian’s guards instinctively took a half-step backward.
“Julian,” Luca’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it cut through the expansive penthouse like a razor blade.
“You have exactly five seconds to explain why my cousin is standing in my living room harassing my fiancée before I break every bone in your hands.”
Julian flinched, a flicker of genuine fear crossing his face, though he tried to maintain his arrogant smirk.
“Fiancée? You’re moving fast, cousin. But that’s actually why I’m here. Grandfather sent a message.”
Julian reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a thick, cream-colored envelope bearing the heavy wax seal of the Moretti family crest.
He tossed it carelessly onto the coffee table.
“The board has officially reviewed your little corporate stunt with the Delaware trust,” Julian sneered.
“And they’ve decided that if you refuse to honor the Rossi alliance, Moretti Holdings will immediately initiate a hostile forensic audit of every single subsidiary, shell company, and real estate acquisition you’ve overseen for the last five years. Including the ones managed by your… assistant.”
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Julian’s eyes locked onto mine with a venomous threat.
“We’ll tear your entire empire down to the foundation, Luca. And we’ll make sure Miss Hayes here goes down right beside you for corporate conspiracy.”
