Chapter 9 - The Trap is Set
By three o'clock that afternoon, Luca and I were sitting in his private, soundproofed executive office on the fiftieth floor of Moretti Global tower. The panoramic glass windows offered a breathtaking view of the Chicago skyline, but neither of us was looking at the view.
On the mahogany conference table sat a laptop displaying real-time corporate stock tracking data, alongside a secure recording device linked directly to federal investigators.
"He's thirty minutes late," Luca muttered, pacing across the Persian rug with restless energy.
"Julian likes making grand entrances," I replied, sitting calmly in a leather armchair. Wearing a sharp black blazer and trousers, I looked less like the exhausted mother from Lincoln Park and more like the corporate strategist I used to be before our world fell apart. "He wants us to feel cornered before he even steps foot in the room."
As if on cue, the double doors of the private office swung open.
Julian Vance stepped inside, dressed in an immaculate gray pinstripe suit, flashing a smug, predatory smile. Behind him stood two burly legal assistants carrying briefcases.
"Well, well, well," Julian purred, closing the door behind him. "The happy family reunion. I must admit, Luca, I didn't take you for a domestic man. Secret heirs? Really? It's almost cliché for a billionaire in your position."
Luca stopped pacing. He turned slowly, his face an impenetrable mask of cold obsidian.
"Shut the door, Julian, and sit down before I have security throw you out the window," Luca said, his voice dangerously quiet.
Julian chuckled, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he took a seat across from me. "Now, now, Luca. No need for dramatics. We're all civilized businessmen here—and, of course, the lovely Miss Carter, who clearly knows a thing or two about keeping secrets."
"Get to the point, Julian," Luca ordered, walking over to stand behind my chair, his hand resting lightly on the backrest—a silent, protective wall between us. "You called my family. You made threats. State your terms before I ruin you."
Julian leaned back, crossing one leg over the other with supreme confidence. "Simple. You quietly step down as CEO of Moretti Global, citing 'health reasons,' and transfer your voting shares to my consortium. In exchange, my legal team will quietly forget about your secret family, and Miss Carter and the twins can continue living their quiet little life without the prying eyes of the tabloid press."
I felt a surge of anger rise in my chest, but before I could speak, Luca let out a low, dry laugh.
"You think my children are leverage?" Luca asked, stepping forward from the shadow of my chair.
"They're a complication, Luca. And complications can be managed," Julian smiled smoothly.
"You're right about one thing, Julian," Luca said, pulling a heavy manila folder from beneath his arm and dropping it onto the table right in front of the corporate raider. "Complications do need to be managed. That's why I spent the last twelve hours working with the federal securities commission."
Julian's smug smile faltered slightly. He reached down, flipped open the manila folder, and began scanning the first page.
The color drained from his face within five seconds.
"This... this is absurd," Julian stammered, looking up with sudden panic. "Insider trading allegations? Market manipulation? These are fabricated—"
"They aren't fabricated," a calm, authoritative voice echoed from the hidden wall speaker behind the desk.
The speaker phone lit up, and the voice of the Assistant U.S. Attorney for the Northern District of Illinois filled the room. “Mr. Vance, this is Special Agent Miller. You are currently speaking on a recorded federal wire. Your recent attempts to orchestrate a hostile takeover using extortion and threats against protected minors have been fully documented. Remain where you are.”
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Julian jumped to his feet, his face turning an ash-gray. He spun around toward the doors—only to find them swinging open to reveal two federal marshals standing quietly in the hallway.
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