Chapter 16 - The Courtroom Ambush
By nine the next morning, every financial reporter in Chicago seemed to know my name.
Again.
I had once dreamed of seeing Miller Floral Design mentioned in newspapers.
I should have been more specific.
MILLER DEED AT CENTER OF BILLION-DOLLAR ROMANO DISPUTE.
ROMANO EMPIRE FACES HOSTILE TAKEOVER.
MORETTI CAPITAL CLAIMS 40% STAKE.
Massimo and I entered the Daley Center through a storm of cameras.
“Mrs. Romano! Did your husband hide his family debt from you?”
“Mr. Romano! Is your logistics company insolvent?”
“Did your marriage trigger the Moretti claim?”
Massimo kept one hand at my back.
I wanted to stop.
He didn’t.
Inside the courtroom, Gabriel Moretti was already seated beside six attorneys.
He looked relaxed.
Of course he did.
Men like Gabriel paid other people to sweat.
Our lead attorney, Rebecca Shaw, whispered to us.
“They’re requesting an emergency injunction.”
“Meaning?” I asked.
“They want the judge to freeze Massimo’s voting rights while ownership is litigated.”
Massimo leaned back.
“How long?”
“Could be months.”
Months would destroy the company.
Banks would panic.
Partners would flee.
Competitors would attack.
Judge Eleanor Prescott entered.
Everyone stood.
For two hours, attorneys argued about contracts older than my career.
Moretti’s legal team produced copies of the 1998 agreement.
Then Francesca’s 2000 extension.
Her signature was unmistakable.
Rebecca challenged the claim.
“Your Honor, the agreement contained a release mechanism attached to Parcel 47-B.”
Gabriel’s attorney smiled.
“We have no record of such a clause.”
Rebecca held up copies of trust correspondence.
“Because the original appendix is missing.”
“Convenient.”
The judge looked at us.
“Do you possess this appendix?”
Rebecca paused.
“No.”
The word landed like a hammer.
Gabriel glanced toward me.
I hated his smile.
Then his attorney introduced another document.
A certified copy of my shop deed.
Without the rider.
My pulse accelerated.
“That’s not right,” I whispered.
Massimo leaned closer.
“What?”
“My closing packet was thicker.”
“You remember?”
“I signed papers for two hours. There was a folded legal sheet attached to the deed.”
Rebecca heard me.
She requested permission to approach.
The judge allowed it.
I took the stand.
Gabriel watched calmly.
“Mrs. Romano,” Rebecca said, “when you purchased Miller Floral Design’s original property, did you receive supplemental documentation?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t know. I was twenty-six. I understood flowers, not commercial property law.”
A few reporters smiled.
“But there was an extra document?”
“Yes.”
Gabriel’s attorney stood.
“Objection. Vague recollection.”
“Sustained.”
Rebecca changed direction.
“Where are your original documents now?”
“They were destroyed in a suspicious fire.”
The courtroom murmured.
Gabriel’s attorney jumped up.
“No evidence connects my client to that incident.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
That earned me a warning look from the judge.
After another hour, Judge Prescott ruled.
Her decision was temporary.
But devastating.
Massimo retained operational control.
However, he could not sell assets, issue new shares, refinance major debt, or restructure the company.
Gabriel received temporary oversight access to corporate records.
Outside, reporters exploded.
Massimo said nothing until we were inside the SUV.
Then he slammed his fist against the seat.
“I should have investigated my father’s debts years ago.”
I grabbed his wrist.
“No.”
“Sophie—”
“You didn’t create this.”
“I legitimized the company. That triggered it.”
“You saved the company.”
He looked at me.
I continued.
“And now we save it again.”
My phone rang.
Marisol.
I answered immediately.
Her voice sounded panicked.
“Sophie, somebody broke into the old flower shop.”
“Call the police.”
“They’re already here.”
“What was taken?”
“That’s the weird part.”
I held my breath.
“Nothing.”
“Then why did they break in?”
Marisol hesitated.
“Because somebody tore apart the wall behind your original desk.”
Massimo and I exchanged a look.
“What was inside the wall?”
“An empty metal compartment.”
My heart began pounding.
Then Marisol added one more sentence.
“And there’s writing scratched into the plaster.”
“What does it say?”
May you like
Her voice dropped.
“Ask Caterina where she buried the blue ledger.”
