Chapter 38 - The Man in Vincent’s Chair
Damon Rusk was forty-seven, handsome in the manufactured way expensive consultants often were, and completely certain Claire Bennett-Moretti was an old woman who could be intimidated.
That was his first mistake.
His second was sitting behind Vincent’s old desk.
Claire entered the sixty-first-floor boardroom forty-eight hours later with Hope on one side and Ethan on the other.
Silas remained in Maine.
Claire had insisted.
“This is not your fight.”
Silas had answered, “It’s my family.”
“And protecting family sometimes means staying where I know you’re safe.”
He hadn’t liked it.
But he had stayed.
Damon rose as Claire entered.
“Mrs. Moretti.”
“Bennett-Moretti.”
“Of course.”
She looked around.
The headquarters had changed.
Warmer wood.
More windows.
Less chrome.
Vincent’s reforms had survived him.
For now.
Damon gestured toward a chair.
Claire remained standing.
“You used my daughter’s signature.”
Hope’s jaw tightened.
Damon folded his hands.
“Mrs. Cole signed voluntarily.”
“Under false pretenses.”
“That would be your interpretation.”
“No,” Ethan said. “That would be fraud.”
Damon smiled.
“I understand emotions are elevated after Mr. Moretti’s passing.”
Claire laughed.
He blinked.
“You think grief made me stupid?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
She placed Vincent’s letter on the table.
Damon’s smile disappeared for half a second.
Claire noticed.
Good.
He knew about it.
“You recognize this?”
“No.”
“Lie better.”
Hope looked at her mother.
Claire continued.
“Vincent discovered the dormant voting agreement.”
Damon leaned back.
“Then he also knew it was legally enforceable.”
“Only with informed consent.”
“Your daughter signed.”
Hope slammed her palm against the table.
“I was told I was releasing pension interests.”
Damon’s expression hardened.
“You should read documents before signing them.”
Claire stepped toward him.
“Careful.”
Damon stood.
“I sympathize with your family history, Mrs. Bennett-Moretti. Truly. But Moretti Global employs forty-eight thousand people. It cannot remain emotionally chained to the charitable impulses of a dead founder.”
There it was.
Claire finally understood.
This was never merely about money.
Vincent had transformed Moretti Global’s humanitarian fleet into one of the largest disaster-response networks in North America.
Damon wanted it dismantled.
“How much?” Claire asked.
He frowned.
“For what?”
“The company.”
A few directors exchanged looks.
Damon smiled.
“You couldn’t buy it.”
“I own four billion dollars in charitable assets personally.”
“Restricted assets.”
Claire smiled.
“Not all of them.”
His face changed.
Vincent had apparently kept some secrets from everyone.
Claire leaned forward.
“You have seventy-two hours to cancel the ownership review, surrender every document Hope signed, and resign.”
Damon laughed.
“And if I don’t?”
Claire picked up the letter.
“I find out what frightened Vincent enough to hide this under a floor.”
Damon’s smile vanished.
For the first time, she saw fear.
Then the boardroom doors opened.
A security officer approached Damon and whispered something.
Damon’s face went pale.
“What happened?” Claire asked.
Nobody answered.
Then every phone in the room began buzzing.
Hope checked hers.
“Mom.”
She turned the screen.
Moretti Global’s stock had dropped eleven percent in six minutes.
The reason appeared beneath the ticker.
CONFIDENTIAL INTERNAL RECORDS LEAKED ONLINE.
Damon stared at Claire.
“You did this.”
Claire shook her head.
“No.”
And that frightened her far more.
May you like
Because somewhere outside the room, someone else was attacking Moretti Global.
Someone Vincent’s letter had never mentioned.
