Chapter 3

I asked my assistant, Kayla Moore, to stay behind and take inventory of my belongings while I left the company alone. Meanwhile, I went to a café in a nearby hotel and pulled up the documents I'd photographed the night before.

They demanded that I return three years' worth of dividends, relinquish all future earnings, and even hand over my warehouses. Every condition was clearly laid out. All they needed was my signature.

…

Around noon, Marino called. "Elena, are you alone right now?"

"If you have something to say, go ahead," I said flatly.

"I know what happened last night and about the office clearance this morning." He sighed. "They were in the wrong this time. I'll have Vivian compensate you for your damaged belongings."

I set down my coffee cup. "Did you call just to pay me off and make this whole business of kicking me out go away?"

"No. I actually wanted to discuss the warehouses with you." He paused, his tone softening. "Everyone in the company is counting on Luca, and the funding deal is at a standstill. He's under a lot of pressure right now. Don't hold it against him."

"Have you seen the document they gave me last night, the one demanding that I leave?" I asked.

Silence followed for a few seconds before he replied, "I've seen it."

"So are you going to make him withdraw it, or are you going to persuade me to sign it?"

"Elena, you're taking 90% of the profits for yourself. It's only natural that the others would object. The Morettis are making an issue of the profit distribution. Why don't you accept a smaller share for now and let Luca close the investment deal?"

He had finally gotten to the point.

"How about this? We'll reserve 10% of the dividends for you for now, and I'll arrange another office for you.

"The warehouses will remain under your name. We'll let the Morettis store the goods for their new project there first, and we'll pay you rent. We can discuss increasing your share of the profits later," Marino suggested.

I said nothing. I wanted to hear what else he expected me to give up.

He must have mistaken my silence for consideration because he quickly added, "You just need to sign a written consent form allowing them to move this shipment into the warehouses. That way, Luca will have something to tell the Morettis."

"You haven't even agreed on the rent or how long they'll be using the warehouses, and you expect me to let them move their goods in first?" I asked sarcastically.

"Just help Luca get through this immediate crisis. We won't treat you unfairly in the future," he claimed.

I couldn't help laughing at the absurdity of it. "The future? You still have the nerve to talk about the future?"

"Elena—"

I interrupted him, "You arbitrarily reduced my share of the profits, demanded that I return three years' worth of dividends, and tried to hand my warehouses over to someone else. And you expect me to just let all of that go?"

"We can discuss these things gradually. Just give him a little room to preserve his dignity."

I laughed. "When you came to me with that list of unpaid wages and begged for help, were you worried about losing face then?"

His breathing faltered.

I continued, "I paid off your debts, provided the money to get your business back on its feet, and even covered the losses during the initial stages.

"You were the one who called me your benefactor and willingly gave me 90% of the profits. Now that the company is finally doing well, you think you've been giving me too much?"

"I haven't forgotten what you did for me!"

"Then make your son withdraw those documents," I demanded.

He fell silent.

After a long pause, he finally spoke. "The Morettis' representatives are already here. If we tell them now that they can't use the warehouses, how is Luca supposed to continue working with them?"

I looked at my cup of coffee, which had gone completely cold. So he'd only called because he was worried his son wouldn't be able to explain himself to the others.

"Luca made those promises. Let him explain himself. Don't use my assets to clean up his mess. Not a single dollar less from my dividends, and the warehouses are off-limits to them," I declared.

"Elena, just hear me out—"

I hung up.

…

That afternoon, the warehouse manager sent me an email.

[Miss Dean, the group has instructed us to clear out two warehouses to receive goods for a new project. The shipment is scheduled to arrive tomorrow. Have you approved their access to the warehouses?]

I replied: [No. Don't clear anything out yet. I'll contact Vivian and get this sorted out.]

The original instructions had come from Vivian, with Luca copied on the email.

The attachment listed the quantities of goods and their estimated arrival times. At the bottom, it stated: [The asset owner has given approval. Proceed according to the group's arrangements. No further confirmation is required.]

I scrolled down and found Luca's reply.

[Approved. Please make the arrangements as soon as possible.]

There was no signature from me, and no one had even bothered to ask for my permission.

I had rejected their proposal that morning, yet by that afternoon, they were already trying to take over my property without my consent.

I called Vivian. "Who told you I'd agreed to accept the shipment?"

"So you've seen the email?" She didn't sound surprised at all. "Didn't Mr. Marino already discuss this with you? The shipment has been arranged. We can't keep everyone waiting."

"He spoke to me, and that gave you the right to claim I'd agreed?"

"We're just scheduling the warehouse intake. We haven't taken your warehouses away. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?" Vivian argued.

"Then why did the email specifically say, 'No further confirmation is required'? Were you afraid the warehouse manager would check with me?"

She hesitated. "We can sort out the paperwork later. The shipment can't just sit around waiting!"

Then her voice rose. "Elena, what exactly do you want? You refuse to transfer ownership, so we're only asking to use the space for storage. We've already compromised, and you're still making things difficult?"

"You're using my warehouses to store your goods without even agreeing on the rent or the duration. And you call that a compromise?" I shot back.

"We can discuss all of that later. Can't you just let the goods in first?"

"So you want to put me in a position where I have no choice, then tell me the shipment can't be delayed?"

I heard a chair move on the other end.

A moment later, Luca took the call. "My father is already trying to work things out. Do you really have to make this so difficult?"

"I already rejected the proposal this morning. Didn't he tell you?"

Luca didn't answer.

A few seconds passed before he spoke again. "The shipment is almost here. If you suddenly refuse to accept it, who's going to be responsible for the losses?"

"Why are you asking me? You're the one who agreed to accept the shipment," I pointed out.

"The warehouses are sitting empty anyway. What's the harm in letting the company use them?"

"Just because there's available space doesn't mean you get to make decisions on my behalf."

With that, I hung up and called the warehouse manager back.

"Don't accept tomorrow's shipment. Let our existing clients continue their normal warehouse operations. If Luca has a problem with that, tell him to contact me directly," I instructed.

"Understood."

It wasn't long before Vivian sent me another message.

Vivian: [Luca will bring this matter before the board. Don't think you can hold everyone up indefinitely just by refusing to sign.]

I didn't bother arguing with her.

…

That evening, the secretary sent over a proposed meeting agenda: termination of the existing agreement, revision of profit distribution, and transfer of the warehouses.

The final line stated, "Miss Elena Dean is requested to bring the original agreement. A formal meeting notice will be sent separately."

I forwarded the message to Kayla and told her, "Get the original agreement ready. I'll bring it to the meeting."