Chapter 12
Victor Lang met them in Claire’s Midtown office.
He was fifty, nervous, and looked nothing like a criminal mastermind.
That was because he was not one.
His company had nearly collapsed after losing two hotel contracts.
Marcus offered to save it.
In exchange, Metropolitan would become the preferred staffing vendor for Montoro events.
At first everything was legitimate.
Then Marcus began asking Victor to bill workers who had been canceled at the last minute.
“He said the reserved labor still cost money.”
Sometimes that was true.
Then Delia started reducing actual staff before events.
The invoices did not change.
Victor objected.
Marcus reminded him who guaranteed the company’s credit.
“Why pay Delia?” Claire asked.
Victor looked miserable.
“She called it consulting.”
“What did she consult on?”
“Which shifts could be cut.”
Raffaele sat back.
There it was.
Delia knew.
Victor continued.
“She said Sofia would cover gaps.”
Sofia stared at him.
“Did she use my name?”
“Yes.”
“What exactly did she say?”
Victor hesitated.
“She said you’d spent your life working kitchens and could use a reminder that marrying money didn’t make you better than the people serving dinner.”
Raffaele’s face hardened.
Sofia touched his sleeve.
He stopped.
That small gesture said more about the state of their marriage than either wanted to acknowledge.
Then Delia and Marcus arrived with attorneys for a scheduled joint session.
Claire laid out Victor’s account.
Marcus immediately attacked him.
“He’s trying to save his company.”
Victor looked at him.
“You already saved it. That was the problem.”
Delia remained composed until Sofia spoke.
“Why me?”
Delia looked at her.
“You know why.”
“No. Say it.”
Delia’s jaw tightened.
“You walked into this family at twenty-one and everybody started acting like you were some miracle.”
Sofia said nothing.
“I ran Raffaele’s homes before you were old enough to order wine. I handled birthdays. Funerals. Staff. His schedule. His daughter’s christening.”
“She’s our daughter.”
Delia looked away.
There it was.
Not merely money.
Displacement.
Delia had been the central woman in her brother’s household for decades.
Then Sofia arrived.
Young.
Ordinary.
A former kitchen worker.
And Raffaele gave her the one thing he had never fully given his sister.
A life separate from Delia’s control.
Marcus finally admitted his own motive.
He needed Metropolitan to survive because he had personally guaranteed its debt.
If it failed, lenders could pursue him.
Delia protected her husband financially.
Marcus protected Delia’s authority.
And Sofia became useful to both.
Raffaele looked at his sister.
“You didn’t need the money.”
Delia’s voice became quiet.
“No.”
“Then why take it?”
“Because I was tired of watching your wife live in a world I built.”
Sofia shook her head.
“That was never your world.”
Delia looked at Raffaele.
For the first time, he understood what his sister had actually wanted.
May you like
Not Sofia’s money.
Her place.
