Chapter 9 - Standing Between a Billionaire and His Dynasty
Every head in the room snapped toward me as if I had just declared war.
Uncle Marco let out a disbelieving laugh, while Aunt Elena stared at me as if I had grown a second head.
Even Luca caught his breath, his dark eyes widening in shock as he reached out instinctively, his fingers hovering just behind my shoulder as if ready to pull me back out of the line of fire.
Don Lorenzo slowly leaned forward in his leather armchair, narrowing his aged eyes as he looked me up and down with renewed, venomous curiosity.
“And what gives a little secretary from Ohio the right to speak in this room, child?” the patriarch rasped, his voice dripping with aristocratic contempt.
“My name is Emma Hayes,” I said, lifting my chin and meeting his terrifying gaze head-on.
“And I am not a secretary. I am the executive director of operations for Moretti Holdings—a position I earned through competence, long hours, and absolute refusal to be intimidated by men who think shouting makes them powerful.”
A sharp, breathless intake of sound echoed from Julian near the bookshelf.
“You presume a great deal,” Don Lorenzo warned, tapping his cane against the floor.
“I presume nothing,” I shot back, my voice steady and unwavering.
“Your proxy signature claim under the holding trust? It’s legally void. As of three weeks ago, Luca filed an executive amendment transferring sole voting rights of Moretti Holdings’ primary assets directly to an independent Delaware trust where the council of elders holds zero veto authority.”
Uncle Marco’s face drained of color in an instant.
He whipped his head around to stare at Luca, panic flashing in his gray eyes.
“That’s… that’s impossible!” Marco stammered, taking a step forward.
“The holding trust cannot be amended without unanimous board approval!”
“It was approved,” Luca said, stepping up beside me, his hand settling firmly and protectively at the small of my back once more.
His voice had returned to that terrifying, glacial calm.
“Filed, stamped, and legally sealed by our corporate counsel last Tuesday. The Rossi merger is dead, Marco. And if you or the council ever attempt to execute another proxy signature behind my back, I won't just strip your voting rights—I’ll audit every single offshore account you’ve hidden from the IRS since 2018.”
The silence that followed was absolute.
Uncle Marco looked like he had just been hit by a freight train.
Aunt Elena clutched her diamond necklace as if she were about to faint.
And Don Lorenzo slowly leaned back into his armchair, his milky eyes studying Luca and me with a long, heavy, contemplative silence.
“You’ve grown dangerous, boy,” the patriarch finally whispered, a faint, grudging note of respect creeping into his raspy voice.
“You found yourself a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
“She’s not a wolf,” Luca replied, his dark eyes softening as he looked down at me.
“She’s my future.”
Before anyone else could speak, Luca grabbed my hand, interlacing his fingers tightly with mine, and turned us toward the double doors of the drawing room.
May you like
“Merry Christmas, family,” Luca said coldly.
“We’re leaving.”
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