Replaced for Her, I Watched His Empire Burn

Before Lorenzo entered the War Room, he reached toward the empty space beside the door. I had stood there for ten years with a black leather folder ready for him. Visitor profiles sat in front, border updates behind them, followed by the names of the three men in the room he should avoid. He had used those notes to win fights before anyone drew a g*n. Tonight, I stayed at the far end of the mahogany table. Lorenzo caught my eye and stopped with his hand still raised. His mouth tightened. A second later he continued to the head of the table, bringing a woman in after him. Camilla Russo, daughter of the man who had tried to kill him six months ago. Her sweet perfume covered the old leather and cigar smoke. Around the table, the capos of the Chicago outfit shifted in their chairs. One looked at me, another at Lorenzo, and the rest kept watching the chair he had pulled out for her. “Camilla will stay at the estate under my personal protection,” Lorenzo said. “It keeps the peace between our families.” Then he looked straight at me. “Elena, she needs a public show of trust.” My hands stayed folded in my lap. He had rehearsed this. Camilla rested her fingers on his sleeve. “Please, Lorenzo. I don’t want trouble. Mrs. Moretti has been the lady of this house for so long.” She lowered her eyes, though her thumb kept stroking the black onyx ring on my hand. Lorenzo covered her fingers with his. “The decision is made. Elena, give her the key to the information network and the ring. She needs enough authority to feel safe here.” One of the capos set down his glass. No one else moved. The key was a data chip on a platinum chain around my neck. It controlled the Moretti intelligence system I had built from nothing: informants, border alerts, shipping records, and every warning that reached Lorenzo before his enemies did. The ring carried a different weight. A black onyx Moretti crest, it had been on my finger for a decade, through our wedding, the birth of our son, and every decision I had made as the family’s matriarch. I studied the man at the head of the table. I had pulled him from a burning car in Sicily and guarded his back for ten years. Now he was giving his enemy access to our house and asking me to make her comfortable. The chain clasp caught in my hair. I freed it and set the data chip on the table. The ring came next, leaving a pale band around my finger. Then I drew the custom Beretta from beneath my blazer. Lorenzo had given it to me on our first anniversary. I laid it beside the key and ring, with the barrel pointed away from everyone. Lorenzo stared at the three items. He had asked for two. “I hope the Moretti name is enough to protect her,” I said. I walked out before he found an answer. Once the oak doors shut behind me, I called a former partner in Geneva. “Is the Chief Risk Officer offer still open?” “For you? Always. When can you start?” “I’m on my way.” My next call went to my lawyer. “Draft the papers. I want full custody of Leo. Lorenzo can keep the houses, the accounts, all of it.” “You’re waiving every financial claim?” “Every one.” Back at the manor, gardenia perfume met me in the entrance hall. Staff were carrying Camilla’s luggage, a dozen designer suitcases, into the guest suite connected to our master bedroom. Two cases had already been left inside our private sitting room. The silver-framed wedding photograph still stood on my nightstand. Lorenzo and I looked young enough to believe Sicily had been the worst thing we would survive together. I turned the photograph facedown, opened my laptop, and booked two one-way tickets to Geneva for the following evening. One was for me. The other was for our son.