Bound To The Accardi Legacy

Chapter 2: The Apex Predator

Zeno

The air in the boardroom was freezing, but the men around the long glass table seemed more afraid of me than the cold. I could see it in the way they avoided my eyes and sat stiffly in their chairs. Nobody wanted to be the next person I turned my attention to.

“I will not ask you again, Rossi,” I said.

My voice was low, but that was enough to make him flinch. I had never needed to shout to get what I wanted. If anything, raising my voice only showed that I was losing control, and I had no intention of giving anyone that impression.

Rossi sat across from me, sweating through his shirt. He was twice my age, yet he looked like a frightened child as he stared at the papers in front of him.

“Mr. Accardi, please,” he begged. “I made a mistake. It was one bad investment. I’ve been loyal to this company for twenty years. I have a wife and children.”

I watched him without saying anything for a moment. He wanted me to feel sorry for him, but all I could think about was the money he had stolen and the lies he had told to hide it.

“You didn’t make a mistake, Rossi,” I said, leaning forward and placing my hands on the table. “You lied about the losses and used company money to cover your tracks. That’s not a mistake. It’s theft.”

“Zeno, I beg you.”

“It’s Mr. Accardi,” I snapped.

Silence filled the room. The ten other executives lowered their eyes to their notebooks, suddenly very interested in whatever was written there. Not one of them dared to look at me.

“Sign the papers,” I ordered, pointing at the pen. “You will resign today, give up your stock options, and leave this building. You will never speak the name Accardi again. If you make this difficult, my lawyers will freeze your bank accounts by noon. We will take your house, and we will take everything else you own.”

Rossi let out a quiet sob. His fingers shook as he picked up the pen, but he signed the papers without another argument. When he finished, he stood and walked out with his shoulders slumped.

The doors clicked shut behind him.

“Meeting dismissed,” I announced.

The executives hurried to gather their things. Within seconds, they were filing out, eager to get away from me. I didn't bother watching them leave. If they feared me, they would think twice before trying to betray me. That was all that mattered.

Soon, only Corrado remained.

“Flawless, Zeno,” he said from the other end of the table.

I turned toward him. Corrado Vianello was my chief lawyer and my godfather. After my father died, he was the closest thing I had to family, and one of the few people who had stayed by my side because he cared about me.

He wore his usual tailored tweed suit and leaned on his silver-handled cane as he gave me a proud smile.

“He was stealing from us,” I replied, loosening my silk tie. “I should have destroyed him completely.”

“You did enough.” Corrado rose and walked over, his steps slow but steady. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “You have a heart of iron, my boy. Your father would be proud of the man you’ve become.”

A heart of iron.

I looked down at the empty glass table. There had been a time when I wasn't like this. Seven years ago, I had been able to trust someone without questioning every word she said. I had loved a woman with everything I had, and I had believed she loved me too.

Livia.

Even after all these years, thinking about her still brought back the same anger. I hated what she had done to me. She had sold my company secrets to our rivals and climbed into bed with another man. She betrayed me and the love we shared, and I couldn't forgive her for making me feel like a fool.

The day those pictures of her cheating reached me, I felt as though the life I had known had ended. I signed the divorce papers, sent her away from Milan, and did everything I could to make sure I would never feel that kind of pain again.

I had turned myself into the man everyone feared because I couldn't bear the thought of being hurt like that twice.

“I do what I have to do to protect this company,” I told Corrado, forcing Livia's face out of my thoughts.

“I know.” He patted my shoulder before stepping back. “You are the apex predator of Milan, Zeno, but even you have problems to deal with. We have one now.”

I frowned. “What problem?”

He opened a thin black folder and slid it across the table.

“Positano. The luxury port development on the Amalfi Coast has come to a stop.”

“Why?”

“The local workers' union is demanding better wages. They're blocking the roads, and our supply trucks can't get through. If we don't resolve this by the end of the week, the delays will cost us millions.”

My jaw tightened. “Millions? Because a group of local fishermen wants to play tough?”

“People down south can be stubborn,” Corrado replied. “I could send a team of lawyers to negotiate, but it might take weeks.”

“No.” I stood and buttoned my jacket. “No lawyers, and no negotiating. I won't waste time bargaining with people who think they can hold my business hostage.”

Corrado looked up at me, a small smile on his face. “Then what do you intend to do?”

“I'll go there myself. I'll meet the union leader, look him in the eye, and make sure this strike ends today.”

“It's a small, quiet town, Zeno. Are you certain this is worth your time?”

“Protecting what's mine is always worth my time,” I replied. “I won't let anyone take another euro from this company.”

“Good. Don't show them mercy,” he said, tapping his cane against the floor. “Mercy is a weakness. People will use it against you.”

“I have no mercy left.”

I left the boardroom and walked through the penthouse office, my shoes clicking against the marble floor. Employees kept their eyes on their screens as I passed. I was used to it. Nobody wanted to draw my attention, and I preferred it that way.

My assistant, Carlo, was waiting outside my private office.

“Sir,” he said, falling into step beside me.

“Get the helicopter ready. We're flying to Naples, then taking a car down the coast to Positano.”

“Already arranged, Mr. Accardi. The pilot is waiting on the roof.”

I stopped at the heavy oak doors and turned toward him. Carlo reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick, unmarked brown folder. He held it out without opening it, his hands trembling slightly.

“What is this?”

“Your travel itinerary, sir,” he replied quickly. Then he hesitated. “And a package from the private investigator you hired.”

I went still.

For seven years, I had paid a private investigator to search for the man in those photographs. That was what I had told him, anyway. I wanted to find the man who had slept with my wife and make him pay for what he had done.

But I had never truly stopped wondering where Livia had gone.

No matter how much I hated her, I had never managed to forget her.

I took the folder from Carlo. The moment it was in my hands, my heart began to pound.

“Did he find something?” I asked.

“He found a face, sir. A match on a security camera. Not the man. A woman.”

My blood ran cold.

Livia.

I tightened my grip on the folder until my knuckles turned white. Anger rose so quickly that I struggled to think clearly. Seven years of searching, and now there was finally something. I wanted to know what the investigator had found, but I couldn't bring myself to open the folder in the hallway.

Not here. Not with Carlo standing in front of me.

I needed to be alone when I saw her face.

“The cars are waiting in Naples to take you down the coast, sir,” Carlo said, unaware of what the news had done to me.

I forced myself to look at him. “When do we arrive?”

“By noon, sir. Positano is a small town. There's nowhere to hide