Chapter 2 - The Return of the Kingpin
Adriano stormed into the study, still wearing his custom tuxedo, his black silk bow tie undone and dangling loose around his open collar.
His dark hair was ruffled by the night wind, and the smell of expensive champagne and bitter sweat preceded him into the room.
He froze the second he saw Lucia standing beside my chair, his jaw tightening into a dangerous, defensive line.
"What is your lawyer doing in our private quarters at three in the morning, Elena?" Adriano demanded, ignoring the way my hands rested protectively over my seven-month bump.
"This is no longer your private quarters, Adriano," I answered evenly, refusing to look away from his furious dark eyes.
"And Lucia is here because you committed felony document fraud against the Romano estate six weeks ago."
Adriano scoffed, tossing his phone onto the desk with a mocking laugh that failed to hide the rising tension in his neck.
"Is this your petty revenge for the gala?" he asked, crossing his arms and leaning over the back of a leather wingchair.
"I gave you ten years of luxury, Elena. I made you the most envied woman in high society."
"You made me a hostage to your public image, Adriano," I countered, feeling a strange, intoxicating calm settle over my spirit.
"You paraded me in front of senators while you forged my signature on Port Aurelia’s terminal leases to finance a hostile takeover with Salvatore Vescari."
Adriano's smirk vanished so violently it looked as if he had been slapped across the face.
His eyes darted to the cream-colored folder lying open under the green banker's lamp, recognizing the red notary stamps.
"Where did you get that?" he whispered, his voice dropping into a harsh, rasping register.
"From the antique cabinet you wanted me to throw into the trash," I said, pointing to the corner of the master bedroom.
"My father built the Romano Continuity Trust with a poison pill, Adriano. You can manage the day-to-day operations of the fleet, but the moment you pledge terminal real estate without my living consent, your executive authority is severed."
"You don't understand the market, Elena!" he exploded, slamming his fist onto the mahogany desktop.
"I owe Vescari forty million dollars by noon tomorrow for the shipping licenses! If those credit lines remain frozen, the entire Moretti conglomerate defaults by the opening bell!"
May you like
"Then you had better call Bianca," I said softly, standing up slowly while supporting my lower back.
"Perhaps she can lend you the money from the finder’s fee Vescari paid her to spy on your board meetings."
