Elena's hand went cold in Adrian's.
Not from him. From the sentence still hanging in the warehouse air, refusing to settle into something she could file away and manage the way she'd managed every other blow this week.
*Your father wrote the papers that erased them both.*
"Show me," she said.
Her voice came out steadier than she felt. That was the family gift, she supposed — the Moretti trick of sounding composed while everything underneath rearranged itself into rubble.
Dante produced a second folder from the crate beside him. Thinner. He held it out, and this time she didn't wait for Adrian or Luca to react first. She crossed the warehouse floor and took it herself.
The restructuring agreement. 2005. Fifteen pages of legal architecture designed to remove two people from a company's
