Chapter 6 - The Trap on Lake Como
A week later, the private cruiser docked at the private pier of our villa.
Sal Moretti stepped off first, his posture radiating swagger. He was thirty-two, wore an ostentatious velvet dinner jacket, and walked with the unearned confidence of a man who believed he had outsmarted his betters. Behind him walked Nikolai Volkov—tall, refined, impeccably tailored in English wool, looking more like an investment banker than the heir to a blood-soaked Russian syndicate.
Victor and I were waiting for them in the grand salon, the French doors thrown open to let in the cool alpine breeze.
I sat in an elevated velvet armchair, my eight-month pregnant belly commanding immediate respect, a glass of sparkling water resting beside me. Victor stood beside my chair, one hand resting possessively and protectively on the carved wooden frame. He looked relaxed, almost bored, a glass of bourbon in his hand.
""Cousin,"" Sal said, grinning as he entered the room, his voice echoing off the frescoed ceiling. ""You're looking remarkably comfortable for a man whose empire is about to be foreclosed.""
""Sal,"" Victor acknowledged with a slight nod. ""You look remarkably arrogant for a man who hasn't checked his bank accounts since his flight left Zurich.""
Sal's grin faltered slightly. He glanced at Nikolai, who remained entirely expressionless, his cold blue eyes studying me, then Victor.
""Let's dispense with the theatricals, Victor,"" Nikolai said, speaking with an educated British accent. ""Your transport fleet owes forty-two million dollars to my holding firm. Under the covenant terms of the loan, any default on payment within seventy-two hours triggers an immediate seizure of the physical assets. You don't have forty-two million in liquid cash available in Europe. We checked.""
""You did check,"" I spoke up, my voice smooth and resonant in the vast room. ""You checked the accounts under the Moretti name.""
Nikolai’s eyes shifted toward me, his brow furrowing slightly. ""Signora Moretti. I had hoped you would have the good sense to separate yourself from your husband's impending bankruptcy. Svetlana told me you were quite calculating.""
""Svetlana made many mistakes,"" I said gently. ""The first was underestimating my patience. The second was failing to realize that the Geneva bank you purchased the debt from... was purchased by my family's maternal trust forty-eight hours before your wire cleared.""
The silence in the salon suddenly turned brittle.
Nikolai froze. Sal looked back and forth between us, panic flashing across his features. ""What is she talking about? Nikolai, what is she saying?""
I pulled a single sheet of embossed paper from a folder on the side table. ""You bought forty-two million dollars worth of debt, Mr. Volkov, but under Swiss banking law, Article 14 of the subrogation clause specifies that if the parent creditor changes ownership prior to closing, the debt is automatically rolled into a subordinate position behind the primary holder.""
I looked directly into Nikolai's widening eyes.
""I am the primary holder,"" I said. ""Which means, Nikolai, that by wiring forty-two million dollars into that account, you didn't buy Victor's shipping fleet. You paid off his principal debt entirely, and you gifted forty-two million in non-refundable capital directly into my private account.""
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Nikolai's face drained of color, mirroring the exact look his sister had worn on the stage at the Castellano gala. ""That... that is an illegal restructuring.""
""Take me to the commercial court in Zurich,"" I whispered, smiling sweetly. ""We can invite Don Castellano and the commission to sit in the gallery and review your family's financial transactions. I'm sure they would love to see how the Volkovs have been laundering money through city transport.""
