“You ready?” he asks.
I pick up my phone and stand. “Absolutely. Let’s go.”
We take the elevator down and head to the waiting car. The drive is silent, both of us deep in thought. I glance at my phone more than once, hoping Briar is still asleep, safe, unaware of what’s coming. Of what I’m planning.
The young receptionist at the Capstone offices greets us and leads us toward the boardroom. As we step inside, I’m unsurprised to see the shareholders already seated—and thank God, Romero is one of them.
He smirks at me like he’s already won. That smug expression makes me want to reach across the table and crush his skull into the polished wood. I grip the back of my chair instead, knuckles white.
I’m going to kill him. He just doesn’t know it yet. He shifts slightly in his seat, eyes narrowing, and I wonder if he might have an inkling after all.
We sit, coffee is poured, small talk muttered, and then the real purpose begins.
“This shouldn’t take long, gentlemen,” Matthew Capstone says, glancing around the table. “As you are aware, even with the generous offer made on the building, unfortunately Mr. Romero doesn’t wish to part with his shares. Therefore, the deal cannot proceed.”
I lean back in my chair, relaxed, confident. “So you don’t know,” I say, feigning casual innocence.
Three of the shareholders glance at one another, brows furrowed. “Don’t know what?” Capstone asks.
I allow myself a slow smile. “That I found a fourth owner who doesn’t seem to be present today. A Mrs. Fellows. I believe she is the original owner and daughter of the man who built the building back in the 1930s. After a short conversation and an exchange of funds, she sold me her shares.”
Mr. Capstone frowns and flips through his paperwork. “Are you speaking of Mary? She swore she would never sell. That the building kept a piece of her father alive.”
I shrug, lifting my coffee and taking a sip before answering, “Yes. Well, when I told her she could remain in the building for the rest of her life, all expenses paid and shared some…enlightening information about another shareholder, she was very happy to sell. I now own seventy percent of the building.” Silence spreads like a detonating blast. “I’m now the majority shareholder,” I continue, just in case they were still confused. “And therefore, what I say goes.”
Capstone lets out a breath, somewhere between surrender and relief. I take pity on the man. I have no quarrel with him or the others. Romero is the only name on my list. “I’m willing to work with all of you,” I say calmly. “I have no intention of demolishing or compromising the aesthetic of the building. I plan to develop it, increase its profitability, and make all of us agreat deal of money. But—” I pause, letting silence stretch, “—as the new majority shareholder, I’m calling a vote to buy out Mr. Romero’s shares. I will not conduct business with a Romero. Not now. Not ever.”
For a moment, the room is still, but I can see Romero’s calm visage is about to crack. How volatile the man is. I don’t want to imagine the eggshells that Briar must have walked over every day in his presence.
Romero surges to his feet, his mouth twisted into an ugly snarl. “Absolutely not! You think you can force me out? You think you can just take what’s mine?” His chair slams backward and crashes to the floor. His face burns an ugly shade of red as he jabs a finger toward me. “I’m not selling a damn thing to a Moretti. This building is worth more than your money, and you will not push me out.”
The other shareholders exchange glances—not with him, but with each other—silent agreement forming instantly. Capstone clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. “Lucien owns seventy percent,” he says quietly. “He has the authority. And frankly, after the chaos surrounding your personal affairs, Mr. Romero, I would feel far more secure with Mr. Moretti’s leadership.”
Romero whips around to face me. “You spineless old bastard?—”
“Enough,” another shareholder snaps, rising to his feet. “We all agree this is best for the building. For all of us. I vote yes.”
One by one, the others voice their agreement. Romero’s eyes widen with disbelief, then narrow with venom. He looks like he might leap across the table and tear someone’s throat out. My throat. I wish he would. I’d like nothing more than to slit the bastard’s neck from ear to ear right at this moment. Be rid of him well and proper.
“This isn’t over,” he snarls.
“Oh, it’s very much over,” Capstone replies, surprising me with a backbone.
I stand, adjusting my cuffs with deliberate calm. Inside, a cold satisfaction settles deep in my bones. Power has shifted. Permanently.
“I thought I would come down and deliver the news personally,” I say smoothly. “Going forward, all business concerning the building will happen through Moretti Global. Quarterly meetings will be held at my offices.”
Capstone and the other gentlemen stand and extend their hands, eager to leave the tension behind. Matthew Capstone’s handshake is firm. “Good doing business with you, Moretti,” he says. His expression tells me he doesn’t mean a word of it. I smile anyway.
The gentlemen move to leave—including Romero—but I step in his path, blocking him. “Not so fast, Romero.”
He lifts his hands like an innocent man caught in the ladies changeroom.
“If you come near her one more time,” I say quietly, leaning in so only he can hear, “you’re a dead man.”
Romero laughs, the sound mocking. But I don’t care. He can laugh all he likes. He’s not going to win, not Briar, and not against me. “Lucien, don’t be so fragile. Are you scared my wife will remember how I used to make her come? Is that why you’re threatening me? Are you not satisfying my sweet Briar?”
“I’m not scared, but you should be.” I step closer. “I warned you once. I won’t warn you again. If you think I don’t know where you are every second of the day, you’re wrong.”
