Chapter 2

Alexandra's POV

By the time we reached Moretti headquarters, I had traded the gown for a black power suit Enzo kept in the SUV.

My father waited until the private elevator doors closed. "How long have you known?"

"That Vincent was sleeping with Sienna? Since the cathedral."

"That he was building something behind our backs?"

I stepped into the executive conference room. "Long enough to bring proof."

A leather folder waited at my seat. I had dispatched my chief of staff to my home safe during the drive. Vincent never knew I kept copies. Because I never confronted him, he assumed I hadn't noticed his administrative bleed.

I spread the records across the mahogany table. "First payment, eighteen months ago. Two hundred forty thousand to a holding company called Hudson Vale Properties."

"Owner?"

"Sienna Caruso. Hudson Vale bought a Brooklyn Heights townhouse three weeks later. Cash. Vincent routed it through a DeLuca consulting firm paid with Moretti capital."

"He used our money to house her."

"He used enough layers to think we wouldn't notice." I handed him the deeds. Six bedrooms, private parking. Not a mistress's hideaway. A family estate.

"What else?"

"Park Avenue obstetrician, genetic screening, an alias-booked delivery suite, and five years of prepaid pediatric concierge service." I laid out the invoices. Every dollar laundered through joint alliance shells. Vincent had orchestrated this child’s future meticulously.

My father paused at the final statement. "Seven million dollars."

"The opening balance."

The Cayman trust sat in the name of Sienna's unborn son. Marco traced the succession clause. "Control transfers to the boy at twenty-five."

"Unless Vincent assumes legal guardianship first. If he dies, Sienna holds it."

Marco set the paper down. "This wasn't guilt. It wasn't just a mistress."

"No."

"Then what was it?"

I had formulated the answer in the car, stripping away the betrayal until only the mechanics remained. "The DeLucas lack the infrastructure to expand. Their cash is trapped in street operations. They needed our banks to move it, our developers to clean it, and our ports to globalize it."

"Which he would have secured today."

"Along with my dowry and voting proxies in three Moretti holding companies."

"And the boy?"

"His bloodline." I tapped the trust. "His gains through me would legitimize the DeLucas. His hidden trust ensured his own son controlled it later. My children would be the respectable figureheads; Sienna's son was the chosen heir."

Saying it aloud bled the poison out of it. The scheme was clean, measurable, and fatal.

Marco walked to the windows. "Carlo knew."

"Undoubtedly. He called the child a 'detail' within seconds of the reveal. He's not surprised."

He turned back. "What do you want?"

"Absolute authority. To dismantle every advantage they gained through us."

"That starts a war."

"I know. To prevent one, we have to show them exactly what it costs."

Marco came back to the table. His paternal softness vanished. "Full authority. Money, personnel, enforcement. No captain overrides you. If Carlo calls me, I send him to you."

"Put it in writing. Let the paper terrify them."

Twenty minutes later, the war room was assembled: Elena Rossi (CFO), Patrick Doyle (Port Authority), Teresa Walsh (Union Liaison), and Julian Cross (Nightclub Network). Marco dropped a signed authorization on the table.

"Alexandra speaks for me. Effective immediately."

No one asked about the wedding.

"Elena. Direct Moretti exposure to DeLuca businesses?"

"Eighty-six million. Indirect touches one hundred forty. Dowry structure hasn't moved."

"Freeze the dowry. Fasten every credit line with a material-change clause."

"Reason for the banks?"

"The marriage failed to execute."

She typed furiously. "Done."

"Patrick. Ports."

"They move imported vehicles and liquor through our priority slots in Newark. Without us, they're capped at forty percent capacity at double the cost."

"Revoke priority access tonight. Reject their manifests wherever contracts permit. Don't seize the cargo. Leave it sitting on the docks where everyone can see it."

Teresa’s task was simpler. We didn't own the unions; we smoothed the frictions. "They have three sites that will miss deadlines this week," she said.

"Let them miss them. All favors vanish. No emergency crews, no overtime accommodations."

Julian handled liquor licenses and security. "Sienna's father runs two of those clubs."

"This is against Vincent, not Sienna's family. Treat her father like any other vendor unless he operates through Vincent's shell."

Marco watched silently.

Elena projected a permissions matrix on the screen. "Vincent still has the merger data room, aircraft privileges, and joint acquisition approvals."

"Revoke it all."

Our general counsel's voice chimed via speaker. "Dowry remains ours. Notices are dispatched."

One by one, the green indicators beside Vincent DeLuca's name turned gray. By the time the screen cleared, Vincent possessed less privilege in our organization than a street-level informant.

Patrick eyed the list. "Carlo will read this as a declaration."

"It's a correction," I said. "For three years, the DeLucas operated on borrowed equity. Tonight, the lease expires."

Elena printed the final schedule: a four-page execution order of every DeLuca operational lifeline. I signed the empty line at the bottom. None of this touched the child's trust or Sienna's medical care. It was a pure audit of Vincent's ambition.

I looked at the four mechanics of the Moretti empire. "Execute withdrawals simultaneously. No warnings. No exceptions. Tonight."