Chapter 4 - The Debt Between Fathers)
Luca Marconi had been dead for seventeen years.
Giulietta had been twelve when his car went through a guardrail during a rainstorm outside Albany.
She remembered the funeral.
Her mother's black veil.
Marco holding her hand.
Hundreds of flowers.
And Warren Hale standing at the back of the church.
She had forgotten that last detail until Marco placed the photograph in front of her.
"He and Dad were business partners?"
"For nine months."
Marco poured coffee nobody touched.
"In 2008, Hale Capital needed investors for a real estate fund. Your father put in sixty million."
Giulietta stared.
"Why was I never told?"
"Because the investment became ugly."
"How ugly?"
"Warren lied about leverage. Luca discovered it. They fought."
Celeste looked at Marco.
"That sounds familiar."
Marco nodded.
"Your father demanded his money back. Warren said withdrawing would collapse the fund."
"What happened?"
"Luca threatened to report him."
Giulietta's pulse quickened.
"And then Dad died."
Marco's eyes sharpened.
"Don't jump where I jumped for years."
"You suspected Warren."
"I suspected everyone."
"Was the crash investigated?"
"Yes. Mechanical failure. No evidence of interference."
"So why does it matter now?"
Marco opened another folder.
"Because three days after Luca died, Hale Capital transferred fifty seven million dollars back to Marconi Holdings."
Giulietta stared.
"Almost the entire investment."
"Exactly."
"Why?"
"Warren said Luca had requested withdrawal before his death."
"Had he?"
"No record exists."
Celeste leaned forward.
"Maybe Warren was frightened of Isabella."
Marco nodded.
"Your mother was already asking questions."
Giulietta remembered her mother differently now.
Isabella Marconi had been beautiful, meticulous and fiercely private.
After Luca died she became harder.
She attended board meetings herself.
She never trusted outside financial firms.
And she had disliked Preston immediately.
Giulietta remembered bringing him to Christmas dinner two years earlier.
Isabella had watched Preston for ten minutes and later said only one thing.
A man who needs to be the most important person in every room will eventually resent any woman who refuses to make herself smaller.
Isabella died of pancreatic cancer eight months later.
At the time Giulietta believed the comment was maternal suspicion.
Now it sounded like a warning born from history.
"Did Mom know about Warren's incapacity trick with Celeste?"
Marco looked at Celeste.
Celeste answered.
"Yes."
Giulietta stared.
"You said you met twice."
"Isabella helped my sister locate one of the attorneys who challenged my confinement."
The room went silent.
"My mother helped you?"
Celeste nodded.
"Quietly."
Giulietta turned toward Marco.
"You knew?"
"No."
Celeste continued.
"Your mother made me promise never to tell Warren."
Giulietta stood and walked toward the window.
Everything she believed she understood about her family was changing.
Her father.
Her mother.
Warren.
Preston.
The wedding.
Marco stood behind her.
"Giulietta."
She turned.
"Did Mom ever tell you she thought Warren was dangerous?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Probably because she knew what I would do."
"What would you do?"
"Go after him."
"And she didn't want that?"
"Your mother believed winning mattered more than revenge."
Giulietta almost laughed.
"That sounds like her."
Marco looked at the wedding invitation sitting on his desk.
"Which means she'd probably hate what I'm about to say."
"What?"
"Cancel the wedding."
Giulietta shook her head.
"No."
Celeste looked alarmed.
"Giulietta."
"If Warren believes I know, he changes his plan."
"Good."
"No."
She turned back to them.
"Not good."
Marco understood before Celeste did.
"You want him to move."
"Yes."
"Against you."
"Yes."
Celeste stood.
"That man destroyed half my life."
"And that's why I need him to believe he still controls the board."
"This isn't a game."
"I know."
"Do you?"
Celeste's voice cracked.
"Because the first time Warren realizes charm won't work, he changes tactics."
Giulietta thought of Preston grabbing her elbow.
"He's already changing them."
Marco's expression became dangerous.
"What happened?"
"Nothing I couldn't handle."
"Giulietta."
"Preston grabbed me."
Marco stood.
"Where?"
"My arm."
"When?"
"Last night."
Marco reached for his phone.
She stopped him.
"No."
"That ends this."
"It proves what we suspected."
"It proves he's putting his hands on you."
"It proves he's getting nervous."
Marco's jaw tightened.
"You're not bait."
"I'm not behaving like bait."
"What do you call walking into a room with people who think they own you?"
Giulietta looked him in the eye.
"I call it letting them mistake patience for weakness."
For the next five hours, they built the first version of the plan.
Marco contacted attorney Naomi Brooks, a former federal prosecutor who had represented Marconi Hospitality for years.
Celeste agreed to provide her old medical documents.
Giulietta gave Naomi the forged trust papers.
Elliot quietly preserved server logs.
Marco arranged independent security for the wedding.
No move would be visible.
No Hale would know.
At eleven forty that night, Naomi found the first major break.
The forged signature packet contained a document identification number linked to a legitimate Marconi board file.
Someone had not merely copied Giulietta's signature.
Someone inside the family company had supplied Warren with the underlying authorization system.
Naomi turned her laptop around.
"Four people could access this."
Giulietta read the names.
Marco Marconi.
Giulietta Marconi.
Chief financial officer Patrick Dorsey.
General counsel Thomas Bell.
Marco pointed.
"Not me."
Giulietta gave him a flat look.
"Comforting."
He almost smiled.
Naomi continued.
"Your credentials weren't used."
"So Patrick or Thomas."
"Probably."
Giulietta knew both men.
Patrick had worked for the Marconis for twenty two years.
Thomas for eleven.
Both had attended her father's funeral.
Both had hugged her after her mother's death.
One of them had sold her future to Warren Hale.
At midnight, Elliot called.
His voice was shaking.
"Someone accessed my workstation."
Giulietta stood.
"When?"
"Tonight."
"Are you at the office?"
"No. I'm home."
"How do you know?"
"I have remote login alerts."
"Did they get anything?"
"I don't know."
Marco took the phone from her.
"Elliot, do not go back to your apartment if you're outside."
"I am inside."
Marco swore softly.
"Lock the door."
A noise sounded through the phone.
Elliot stopped speaking.
Giulietta heard it too.
Three slow knocks.
Elliot whispered, "Someone's here."
"Don't answer," Marco said.
Another knock.
Then a man's voice came from the hallway.
"Elliot? Patrick Dorsey. We need to talk."
Giulietta and Marco looked at each other.
The traitor had just identified himself.
May you like
But when Elliot checked the hallway camera thirty seconds later, Patrick Dorsey was not alone.
Standing beside him was Preston Hale.
