They Called Me a Freeloader in My Own Empire

“Sign here, Vera. It's just a change to the corporate structure. Camilla's already reviewed it.”

Luca pushed the agreement toward me, opened it to the final page, and tapped the signature line.

I left the pen where it was and turned back to the beginning.

The sales director and operations manager sat around the conference table with several men who had worked for my father. Camilla occupied the chair at the head. Luca sat beside her. Everyone had a full briefing pack except me.

All I had was the agreement they expected me to sign.

On page three, I found a provision redistributing my seventy-percent holding. My dividends would be replaced by a fixed allowance, the amount to be determined by the new management.

I looked up.

“So I give you my shares first. Then I wait for you to decide how much money I can have?”

“It's a restructuring proposal.”

“Then tell me who gets the shares.”

Luca unfolded his hands, almost relieved to have reached a question he had prepared for.

“Some will reward key personnel. Some will bring in new partners. We're expanding exports and negotiating with other families. We can't keep doing everything the way your father did.”

“Where's the list?”

“The details are still being discussed.”

“You've already decided how to replace my dividends, but you haven't decided who gets my shares?”

Camilla set down her coffee.

“That's why we invited you here, Vera. To discuss it.”

“Then why aren't the proposed recipients named in the agreement?”

I waited for her answer.

Instead, she moved the pen Luca had placed too close to my hand.

“Don't be so tense. We'll make sure you don't lose out.”

She had said that before. When I came of age, my aunt started making me read the annual reports myself. Camilla would explain anything I didn't understand, line by line. Gradually, I had become comfortable leaving the business in her hands.

Now she wanted the same trust without answering a simple question.

“Camilla, is this what you want?”

“Luca and I drafted it together.” She met my eyes. “In twelve years, I've put three labels nobody had heard of into some of the best restaurants in Europe. Every distribution agreement we have was negotiated by this team.”

“I know.”

“But you come home for two weeks a year and collect more in dividends than the entire management team earns. We're asking for some security. You could try to understand that.”

The sales director leaned forward.

“Miss Bellini, we respected your father. But he's been dead for more than twenty years. Camilla's the one entertaining buyers. We're the ones working nights in the warehouse and answering for the numbers.”

The operations manager nodded.

“You won't have to worry about money. As long as the company exists, we'll look after you.”

“Why should my income depend on whether you feel like looking after me?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it.

“If you're underpaid, we can discuss salaries,” I continued. “Or bonuses. That is a separate conversation from asking me to give up my shares.”

I closed the agreement.

“I trusted Camilla to run the wineries. I never agreed to give up my shares.”

The room went quiet. Camilla's expression hardened.

Luca reached for the document.

“Clearly, this isn't a productive time. Go home. Think it over. We'll reconvene when you're ready.”

I kept my hand on it.

“I'm taking this.”

“It's an internal draft.”

“It has a space for my signature. An independent lawyer will review it before I decide anything.”

He looked at Camilla.

Several seconds passed before she nodded. “Let her have it.”

Only then did he withdraw his hand.

I put the agreement in my bag and stood.

“Please send the full proposal, the names of the intended recipients, and the last twelve months of financial statements. We can continue once I have them.”

Luca gave me a small smile without agreeing to anything.

“Don't make this ugly, Vera. We're family.”

“Then you should have asked before trying to take what belongs to me.”

The sales director gathered his papers without looking at me. Passing my chair, the operations manager murmured that a piece of paper wasn't worth destroying years of trust.

I let him go unanswered.

Camilla was the last to leave. At the door, she turned back, her voice softer.

“Your aunt asked me to take care of you. Luca's only just become part of this family. At least give him a chance.”

“I gave him a chance to manage the finances. That doesn't include deciding who gets my shares.”

She pressed her lips together.

“Think about it. I'll explain things to your aunt.”

As soon as the door closed, I called my aunt myself.

This time, nobody else would tell her what I had agreed to.