The transfers themselves were already being questioned by counsel.
My signature appeared on two authorizations I had never signed.
That changed everything.
I did not confront Roman.
I did not ask why.
I did not give him time to destroy anything else.
The attorneys prepared a revocation notice, an emergency request preventing further transfers of disputed Moretti assets, and a board demand requiring Roman to surrender records connected to my trust holdings.
Dante Vale entered the picture because one of the disputed transactions involved a company in which he held a substantial interest.
Roman had spent years calling Dante his enemy.
For once, that rivalry was useful to me.
Dante supplied records Roman’s people had refused to produce.
He asked for nothing in return except that I make my own decision after seeing them.
That was why he had been waiting outside the Drake.
Not to rescue me.
To witness whether I would walk out on my own.
I looked through the car window toward the hotel entrance.
“Why tonight?” I asked, although I knew part of the answer.
“Because your proxy expired at nine,” Dante said.
“And because Roman just made the mistake of behaving as though nothing changed.”
I thought of the ring on Vanessa’s finger.
“The ring doesn’t control anything.”
“No.” Dante’s mouth tightened.
“But Roman thinks symbols are power.
That makes him careless when people are watching.”
The live video continued.
Roman finally accepted the sealed folder.
The man speaking to him was counsel for the trust’s independent administrators.
Another was the company’s outside attorney.
The third represented the court handling the emergency application concerning the disputed transfers.
No one was arresting Roman.
What they were doing was, to him, almost more humiliating.
They were telling him no.
In front of everyone.
His authority to vote the Moretti shares had expired.
He was formally notified that disputed assets could not be sold, pledged, transferred, or encumbered until the ownership challenge was reviewed.
The company board had been summoned for an emergency meeting the following morning.
And the signatures on the authorizations would be examined independently.
Roman opened the folder.
His eyes moved across the first page.
Then he looked toward the ballroom doors as though expecting me to walk back through them.
Vanessa touched his sleeve.
“What is it?” she asked.
Roman jerked his arm away.
The gesture was small, but every camera caught it.
Vanessa looked down at the sapphire ring.
For the first time, she seemed to realize I had not given her a prize.
I had given Roman a stage.
And he had used it to show everyone exactly who he was.
Roman grabbed the microphone.
“This is a private family matter.”
Nobody moved.
A board member near the front replied, “Not anymore.”
That was when the whispers became voices.
Men who had laughed at Roman’s jokes all evening began checking their phones.
Attorneys stepped away from their tables.
Two lenders’ representatives left the room entirely.
