Chapter 3

"Fifty million dollars."

Marco slid the bill file across the table to me.

"Seventeen transfers within the last month, all going to Miss Sofia's personal account."

As I checked the assets, I found my personal account held only three thousand dollars.

Not enough for Sofia's tea.

But the transfer records were pulled up, each bearing my digital signature.

I frowned. "I didn't authorize these transactions."

Marco looked uneasy. "The signature is real, and your private seal is on it. It looks like Don Ricci stamped it himself."

I was silent for a moment, then remembered that when we got married, I'd given Dante my private seal as a sign of trust.

"There's worse," Marco opened another file. "Three days ago, Don Ricci borrowed three hundred million dollars from the Escobar cartel in Colombia, in the family's name. He invested it in a crypto mining project with a ten percent weekly interest rate."

My fingernails dug into the table.

"Notify all core members. Emergency meeting in one hour."

The air in the conference room was even heavier than last time.

Dante's expression was blank.

"Elena, what drama are you trying to stir up now?"

I tossed the bill onto the table.

"Fifty million dollars. How do you plan to explain that?"

Dante glanced at the ledger. "Sofia wants to open a Vegas entertainment company. She needed seed money."

"Entertainment company?" I sneered. "Are you saying your "investment" lost eight million overnight at the casino?"

Suppressed gasps filled the room.

"That was just the cost of trying..." Dante rubbed his temples. "It was bad luck. These things happen. You called everyone here for this?"

"Bad luck?" I scoffed. "Then what about borrowing three hundred million at usurious rates in the family's name? Do you know Escobar's rules? If you don't pay it back in a week, they'll feed you to the sharks in the Caribbean Sea!"

"Enough!" Dante shot up. He thought I hadn't figured out the seal. "I'm the Don of this family! My decisions don't need your approval!"

"You're the Don?" My voice turned colder. "Then why is there less than eighty million left in the family accounts? Why is the FBI preparing indictments?"

Dante's face stiffened, then he dismissed it.

"So what? Even if it's lost, you're the one who makes money. Right?" He pointed at me. "You can just make it back!"

"What do you take me for? An ATM?"

Dante sneered. "Besides counting money and closing deals, what else are you good for?"

He walked up to me, looking down.

"Sofia needs attention, needs care," he said sarcastically. "And you, Elena Moretti, do you even know how to love, or are you just a machine for balancing ledgers?"

I looked at the face that once swore to love me forever and suddenly found him frighteningly unfamiliar.

I closed my eyes. "I don't want to deal with your messes anymore. I want a divorce. Figure out how you're going to give me my money back."

Just as I turned to leave, Dante grabbed my wrist. "I'm warning you, I'm not agreeing to a divorce. We have this alliance. I still need the Moretti family's resources, and you need to keep your Donna position solid for me."

I tried to pull my hand away. "Let go."

"Let go?" His grip tightened suddenly. "Who do you think you are? What is Moretti without the Ricci family?"

"I said, let go!"

Dante abruptly released my wrist.

I stumbled back, my hip hitting the sharp corner of the conference table.

The sharp pain made me gasp.

Marco rushed over. "Donna!"

I waved him away.

A flicker of panic crossed Dante's face, quickly replaced by defiance.

"You hit yourself," he said, his tone hard. "Don't try to pin this on me."

"Pin this on me?" I laughed. "Dante Ricci, you disgust me."

"Whatever you say." He grabbed his jacket. "Sofia's waiting for me. We're going to a private island for a few days. We can talk when you've calmed down."

"Talk about what?" I stood up straight, ignoring the pain in my side. "Talk about how you'll keep draining the family?"

Dante walked out without looking back. "Don't worry about Escobar's money. The project funds will be back in five days. Don't get jealous then!"

The door slammed shut.

In the conference room, Marco hesitated.

"Donna, should we..."

"Meeting adjourned," my voice was calm. "Everyone out."

"But..."

"I said, out."

After everyone had gone, I stood alone in the empty conference room.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, the sun was sinking below the horizon.

I walked to my desk and opened the bottom drawer.

Inside lay a business card.

My father gave it to me before he died. He said, "This is the Moretti family's last resort. Never use it lightly. But if it truly comes to that day..."

He didn't finish, but I understood.

After a moment's hesitation, I dialed the number.