Chapter 7 - The Empty Champagne Glass

Arturo Moretti did not reach the front doors.

Dante’s men intercepted him in the marble foyer.

They did it quietly.

No raised voices.

No weapons in front of guests.

No scene.

Arturo simply found two men standing between him and the exit.

He smiled.

“Is there a problem?”

Marcello came down the staircase.

“Yes.”

Arturo looked up.

For one second, something close to disappointment crossed his face.

Not fear.

Disappointment.

As though Marcello’s presence itself meant a plan had failed.

“Where is your glass?” Marcello asked.

Arturo smiled again.

“What glass?”

“The one you handed me before I left.”

“I handed drinks to half the room.”

Marcello descended the final step.

“Only one of them was meant for me.”

The smile disappeared.

Behind Marcello, Victor and Bianca were escorted into a side room.

Arturo saw them.

His expression hardened.

“Whatever they told you, they’re protecting themselves.”

“Probably.”

Marcello stopped in front of him.

“That doesn’t make you innocent.”

Francesca entered the foyer holding Lily.

The child rested her head against her mother’s shoulder.

She looked exhausted by an evening she could not possibly understand.

Then she saw Arturo’s cufflink.

Her head lifted.

“The flower.”

Everyone looked at her.

Lily pointed.

“That flower was on the little paper.”

Arturo looked down at the black rose cufflink.

Francesca asked, “What paper?”

“The one the pretty lady dropped upstairs.”

Marcello remembered the clinic label.

The black rose beside the file number.

A private mark.

Not a clinic logo.

Not random decoration.

A signal.

Dante searched the documents Victor had carried from the west study.

At the bottom of the altered succession agreement, nearly invisible beside the version number, was the same black rose.

Victor finally broke.

“Fine.”

Arturo turned toward him.

“Don’t.”

Victor laughed without humor.

“You’re going to let me take this alone?”

Marcello said nothing.

Victor looked at him.

“Your uncle financed the operation.”

Arturo’s face became completely still.

Victor continued.

“He paid Caruso. He paid me. He introduced Bianca.”

Bianca looked sick.

Victor pointed toward the agreement.

“The plan was simple. You marry her. You acknowledge the pregnancy. You sign the emergency voting clause.”

“And then?”

Victor looked toward Arturo.

Arturo said, “Say another word and you’ll regret it.”

Victor did anyway.

“Then Marcello becomes medically unable to manage the company.”

Francesca tightened her grip on Lily.

Marcello looked at the empty champagne glass in his memory.

Victor continued.

“Bianca takes emergency voting authority. Arturo controls her through the contracts he made her sign.”

Bianca whispered, “I didn’t know about the drink.”

Arturo scoffed.

“You knew enough.”

She stared at him.

“You told me Marcello would be forced out by the board.”

“And you believed what was convenient.”

Marcello finally understood the structure.

Bianca was the face.

Victor was the paperwork.

Caruso was the medical proof.

Arturo was the money.

And Marcello was supposed to sign away control without realizing the pregnancy itself was the key that activated the trap.

Then Francesca asked the question no one had asked yet.

“Why Bianca?”

The room became quiet.

Arturo smiled faintly.

Marcello noticed Bianca’s expression.

Not guilt this time.

Pain.

Victor looked away.

Arturo said, “Yes, Bianca.”

He turned toward her.

“Tell him why you agreed so quickly.”

Bianca’s eyes filled with tears.

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Arturo’s smile widened.

“Tell Marcello what his father did to yours.”