Chapter 7 - The Invitation from Vienna
By Wednesday, the shockwave had crossed the Atlantic.
European music boards moved with terrifying speed. Courier services delivered heavy, cream-colored envelopes embossed with gold wax seals directly to Valente Holdings—not to the executive suite, but specifically addressed to Elena Moretti.
Dante intercepted the first one. He walked into her cubicle, dropped a heavy envelope onto her keyboard, and leaned against the partition.
Elena didn't look up immediately. She finished typing a wire transfer confirmation before sliding her glasses down her nose. “Interception of mail is a federal offense, Dante.”
“It’s from the Vienna State Opera,” Dante replied, his gaze fixed on her face. “They are offering you the permanent autumn residency. Full artistic control. No corporate sponsors on the board.”
Elena’s fingers paused over the home row. A flicker of raw emotion—long buried beneath years of shorthand and cold corporate coffee—crossed her features before she locked her expression back into stone. “Vienna is a gilded cage. I built my freedom right here, behind this desk.”
“Freedom?” Dante scoffed softly, stepping closer. “You’ve been hiding behind my security details and a gray cardigan because you were afraid of your own talent.”
“I was protecting my peace.”
“You weren't protecting peace, Elena. You were punishing yourself.” Dante tapped the heavy envelope. “Are you going to open it, or should I throw it in the shredder alongside the invitations from London and Paris?”
Elena stood up slowly. For the first time in three years, she didn't look like an invisible assistant. She looked like a general preparing for a campaign. She took the envelope, slid her finger under the heavy wax seal, and pulled out the crisp parchment inside.
She read it once. Then twice.
May you like
Then she folded it neatly, placed it back on her desk, and looked straight into Dante’s dark eyes. “Tell my car to wait. I have a meeting with the board of trustees at Westbridge this afternoon. And cancel my appointments for the rest of the week.”
A slow, dangerous smile touched the corner of Dante’s mouth. “Now that sounds like a woman who knows how to take command.”
