“The most significant vulnerabilities I’ve identified so far are tied to loyalty and access,” she says. “Specifically, the lack of a formalized, consistently enforced protocol for how employees, particularly long-term employees, access sensitive information across divisions. You have people who have been with the company since the previous ownership who still have the same level of access they had ten years ago, often in areas that are no longer relevant to their roles.”
She looks up from her tablet, and her eyes meet mine.
“There are three individuals, all senior-level, who have access to everything from your logistics manifests to your personnel files to your preliminary architectural blueprints for a new distribution center that is still in the planning stages. None of those things is relevant to their current positions. Yet they can access them.”
She swipes again.
“Your family,” she says, and her tone does not change, though the subject is more delicate. “Operates on a system of informal authority that is efficient, but also creates blind spots. Your brothers have access to everything. Do their second-in-commands? At what level does that trust extend? And is it the same level for all of them?
“The training policies Diego mentioned are a good start, but they are reactive. They outline what happens after a breach. They do not proactively limit the possibility of one.”
She stops.
She has laid out the problem in stark, clear terms.
She has not named names or made accusations. She has identified a structural weakness that could bring the entire thing down and offered it to me without a hint of judgment.
“What is your recommendation?” I ask.
My interest is no longer professional. I’m not sure it ever was. I am fascinated.
Her fingers move across the screen again.
“My recommendation is a three-phased approach.”
Of course it is. Victoria is a woman who likes plans.
“Phase one,” she says. “Immediate access audit. All personnel. Family included. We identify redundant access, unnecessary permissions, and shadow accounts. We clean it. Within a week.”
“A week is aggressive.”
“It is necessary,” she counters. “And achievable. With your cooperation.”
Her eyes meet mine, and the challenge is subtle, but it is there.
“Phase two,” she continues. “A tiered access protocol, formalized, enforced, and tied directly to role-based responsibilities. We also implement a system of temporary access grants that expire automatically and require senior-level approval for renewal.”
Her mind is a beautiful thing to watch. Sharp, organized, relentless.
“Phase three,” she says. “Integration. We create a culture of accountability that is not punitive, but protective. We train employees to understand that limiting access is not an accusation. It’s a defense. For the company. For them. For you.”
She falls silent.
She has given me more in five minutes than my last three advisors gave me in six months.
And she has done it on very little sleep.
She is looking at me, waiting for a response. Her face is still, but there is a flicker of something in her eyes. A question.
She is asking me if I’m serious.
If I want solutions, or if I want someone to agree with me.
I have spent years surrounded by men who fear my questions, who agree without question. It is the way my father demanded it.
It is also why his own empire never grew past Naples.
“Do it,” I say.
