My fingers trail the smooth armrest, steadying my resolve.
“Yes, you are. You’re planning to announce the appointment of Davide Fontana as Matteo’s successor.”
He cocks an eyebrow arrogantly. “Am I?” he repeats.
He thinks he can intimidate me. I don’t blame him for that. I have been submissive with him, haven’t I? But he should know better than to mistake my respect for weakness.
“And if Nico goes against that terrible decision you intend to make, you will dismiss him as CEO.”
For a moment, his composure flickers—an ember of surprise in his eyes—then he masks it. “And how would you know any of this?”
I shrug. “Does that really matter now that I do know about it?”
His jaw muscles twitch.
“I’m here on behalf of my sisters and me,” I say, leaning forward.
Papà is no one’s fool, and he straightens. “Alessia, I warn you to thinkverycarefully about?—”
“We’re so past that, Papà,” I cut him off. I never do that. I’m not Alba or even Toni. I’m Alessia. The quiet one. The plain one who wasn’t supposed to be able to hold on to Nico Alarico.
He opens his mouth, but I press on before he can muster a defense. “Alba, Toni, and I are beneficiaries of the Alighieri trusts.”
Now, he knows what this is about, and he throws me a withering look.
In the past, I’d cower. But I’m notthatAlessia any longer. I’ve grown this past vintage into who I am meant to be.
“The board answers to me,” he states confidently.
“The land answers only to lineage,” I remind him.
He plants the palms of his hand on his desk with a thud. He can sense authority slipping like sand through his fingers. “I hold your proxy votes?—”
“—at our pleasure.” I lower my voice to a steel thread. “But legacy, Papà, cannot rest on one man’s whim.”
Silence floods the room, thick as the dust on the unread tomes in the hallways and the library of this old house.
“You may fire Nico, Papà.” I keep my tone on the level. Papà is a predator, and if he even smells a slight weakness, he’ll attack to win. “But hewillsue. Wrongful termination, retaliation, and hostile governance. I will side with him—not as spouse, but as trustee. As will my sisters.”
His fingertips drum against the desk, a staccato echo that betrays tension I have never seen him wear before, not with me, not because of me.
“The House of Alighieri cannot weather that storm,” I state placidly. “Especially as we merge with companies like Cantina Alarico and court institutional investors who recoil at family bloodletting.”
He rests back on his chair in an attempt to show he’s not rattled by me.
“I don’t have patience for this. Say what you have to say and get out.”
I am not surprised by either the venom or the hostility he displays. Papà doesn’t like being challenged.
I don’t let it bother me. I can’t.
“I, as the eldest Alighieriheiress,will create enough drama about my husband being fired for reasons that are less than ethical, that it will weaken your position as chairman of the board.” I smile now, not sweetly, but with determination. “You, too, Papà, rule at the pleasure of the board.”
He arches a brow, his stare dripping with disdain. “You think you can oust me?”
“Yes.”
His lip curls in bitter defiance. “You would do that to your own father?”
