"Do it," I told Marcello.
My index finger slammed down hard on the glowing glass.
A bright green APPROVED banner instantly flashed across the screen, overriding the red warning. I watched the progress bars fill as the system locked the offshore accounts, severed the dummy corporations, and drained the estate's central operational fund into a heavily encrypted blind trust.
"Done, Boss," Marcello murmured.
He tucked the tablet under his dark suit jacket.
"Cancel the black cards, too," I instructed. "Dante's, Isabella's, and Leo's. I want every line of credit tied to my name completely severed. If they try to buy a cup of coffee tomorrow morning, I want the card declined."
"Already handled," Marcello said. "The bank flagged their accounts five minutes ago. The secondary overrides are wiped."
"Good."
I turned away from him and headed straight down the corridor. I entered my private office, sat at my mahogany desk, and finalized the secondary security protocols on my laptop. I changed the routing numbers for the shipping manifests and locked out all external access. Finished, I shoved my chair back. My shoes sank deep into the vintage Persian rug as I crossed the room and locked the heavy double doors behind me. I didn't sleep. I spent the rest of the night watching the financial empire I built slowly go dark.
At six o'clock the next morning, I tossed a third silk shirt into my open leather suitcase. I didn't need much. Just enough clothes to get me through the next few days while my attorneys dismantled Dante's life.
"Sir, you cannot go up there!"
The panicked voice of Thomas, the estate butler, echoed through the thick wood of my bedroom door.
"Get out of my way, Thomas!" Dante roared. "I will fire you right now!"
"You can't afford to fire him," I muttered to myself.
I zipped the suitcase shut. I gripped the brass handle of my door and yanked it open.
Dante stood in the center of the hallway, his chest heaving under a wrinkled dress shirt. He gripped a thick stack of stamped papers in his right fist. Behind him, the long gallery of family portraits lined the walls. Massive oil paintings of Dante, Isabella, and Leo hung in heavy gold frames. I didn't exist in a single canvas. But today, the gallery looked entirely different. The expensive art lights mounted above each portrait were dead.
"Did you sleep well, Dante?" I asked.
He shoved the papers toward my face. "What is this, Caterina?"
"It looks like the morning mail," I replied.
"They are bounced checks!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "The caterers for Leo's birthday called at five in the morning demanding fifty thousand dollars in cash. The yacht management company sent a default notice. Even the utility company flagged the estate's auto-pay! The power to the East Wing is completely shut off!"
I glanced at the dark wall sconces. "I noticed. You might want to buy some candles. Or perhaps Isabella can generate her own electricity with her warm, motherly glow."
Dante threw the papers onto the floor. They scattered across the marble tiles like fallen leaves. "You froze the trust."
"I reclaimed my assets," I corrected him. "You made it perfectly clear last night that my contributions were just paperwork. So, I took my paperwork back."
"You vindictive bitch," he snarled. "You are throwing a tantrum because Leo loves Isabella."
I let out a short, harsh laugh. "Love? You handed my son to that woman when he was exactly one month old. You told me I was too weak from the hemorrhage to raise him. You built a narrative that I was a cold, absent mother, and you let her play the martyr. You let her feed him, dress him, and poison him against me."
"She stepped up!" Dante yelled, his fists clenching at his sides. "She gave him the affection you never could!"
"She bought him his first car with my money," I said, my voice dropping to a lethal calm. "She wore my diamonds to the opera while I stayed home to launder your dirty cash. I financed your entire existence, Dante."
"You were my wife!" he spat. "It was your duty to support this family!"
"My duty ended the moment you let my son humiliate me in front of the entire family," I countered. "You sat there and drank champagne while he called me a signature on a contract. So I am honoring his words. The contract is void."
"Dante? What is going on out here?"
Isabella appeared at the far end of the hallway. She clutched a silk robe tightly around her waist, her hair perfectly styled despite the early hour. She took one look at the scattered papers on the floor and pressed a hand to her chest.
"Caterina, please," Isabella called out, rushing forward a few steps before stopping. "Leo is trying to sleep. Why are you yelling at Dante over some bills?"
I slowly turned my head to look at her. "Go back to your room, Isabella. The adults are talking."
"Do not speak to her like that!" Dante snapped.
"I will speak to her however I please," I said. "She lives in my house. She eats the food I pay for. And as of this morning, she is officially a trespasser."
Isabella's eyes widened. "Dante, what is she talking about?"
"Nothing," Dante barked at her. "Go back to the East Wing!"
"The power is out in the East Wing," Isabella whined, stepping closer. "My vanity lights won't turn on. Caterina, did you forget to pay the electric bill? I know you handle the administrative chores, but really, this is embarrassing."
"I didn't forget," I said, offering her a chilling smile. "I canceled the account. You might want to start packing those designer bags I bought you. The bank seizes the property on Friday."
Isabella gasped, looking frantically between me and Dante. "Dante, tell her to stop! She is ruining Leo's first day as harbor boss!"
"Do you hear her?" I asked Dante. "You both assumed I would just swallow it. You thought I was a corpse walking these halls, signing checks and keeping the feds off your back while you played happy family. You thought I was weak."
Dante's jaw clenched. A muscle twitched near his ear. "Unfreeze the accounts. Now."
"No."
"Do you have any idea what you are doing?" he demanded. He pointed a rigid finger at my chest. "The cartel shipments arrive at the docks on Tuesday. If the bribes don't clear the customs accounts by Monday night, they will seize seventy million dollars worth of product. The Colombians will slaughter us!"
"That sounds like a problem for the new head of harbor operations," I said. "Tell Leo to ask Isabella for the money. She understands the men so much better than I do, right? Let her charm the customs agents."
"Caterina, this is not a game!" Dante yelled.
"You wanted her to guide him," I continued. "Let her guide him through a federal indictment. Let her explain to the Colombians why their shipment is sitting in an FBI evidence locker."
"I am the head of this syndicate!" Dante screamed, spit flying from his lips. "You do not overrule me!"
He lunged, his hands reaching for my throat.
He never made it.
Marcello stepped out from the alcove beside my door. He moved with terrifying speed, a massive wall of muscle and tailored wool. He grabbed Dante's wrist, twisting it sharply downward.
Dante let out a choked gasp of pain, his knees buckling under the pressure. The expensive fabric of his trousers hit the marble floor with a sharp thud.
Marcello drew his weapon.
The metallic slide racked back with a sharp, unforgiving click. The cold steel barrel of a Glock 19 pressed directly into the center of Dante's forehead.
"Take another step toward the Boss," Marcello whispered. "I dare you."
Dante froze. His eyes crossed slightly, trying to focus on the gun. The rage in his expression fractured, replaced by a sudden spike of genuine fear.
"Marcello," Dante choked out. "I pay your salary."
"No," Marcello replied. "Caterina pays my salary. And her checks don't bounce."
I stepped around Dante, my suitcase rolling smoothly over the scattered invoices. Twenty years of absolute control, shattered in a single morning. A hot surge of satisfaction bloomed in my chest.
"Pack your things, Dante," I said. "Or don't. It doesn't matter. The estate is in my name, and the foreclosure begins on Friday."
Dante gritted his teeth, his eyes burning with absolute hatred as he stared up at me past the barrel of the gun.
"You think freezing the accounts threatens me?" Dante growled, his voice a low, vibrating threat. "I can find someone to force unfreeze them in three hours."
