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“She may make a decision I dislike,” he continued. “But it is still her decision to make.”

Raffaele looked older for one brief moment, but not necessarily weak, and his eyes returned to me.

“Will you come to Sicily?” he asked.

“I will not.”

He breathed in slowly through his nose. “Will you consider a formal alliance if the threat worsens?”

“Not unless the choice is mine and I know exactly what you put in my name,” I answered, which earned me another silence, but I ignored it. I looked toward Giulia. “Explain the trust to me. Don’t use the version designed for children and criminals with short attention spans. Give me the real version.”

The attorney opened the folder in front of her.

“The Caruso Atlantic Trust was created after Bianca’s death,” she began. “It holds the controlling interest in Bellandi’s American import companies, warehouses, and port-service contracts. Your father manages the companies, but he does not own the controlling shares personally.”

“I own the trust then?”

“You are its sole beneficiary. More importantly, it contains a special voting interest that belongs only to you.”

“Meaning?”

“You can replace trustees, appoint directors, approve new operating partners, or revoke access to the American companies. Until you formally accept that authority, three appointed trustees exercise it under restrictions established by your father.”

“And Levon wants me to accept it on his behalf,” I said.

“He wants you to accept it and then appoint someone loyal to him,” Giulia explained. “A signature alone would not instantly give him ownership. The trust has safeguards against coercion. But if you appeared publicly, claimed your authority, and said you had broken with your father, Levon could create a governance crisis.”

“He gets his men inside while everyone argues over whether I meant it.”

“That’s right.”

The simplicity of it made my skin crawl. Levon didn’t need me to love him, marry him, or trust him. He only needed me alive long enough to stand in front of a camera and make his invasion sound like a family disagreement.

“And if I refuse to cooperate?”

“He will attempt to manufacture your cooperation,” Raffaele said. “A recording with the right documents. Basically, a public statement made under conditions that do not appear coercive.”

“So, the trust you created to protect me is the reason they need me alive.”

Pain flickered across Raffaele’s face before he buried it. “Yes,” he finally replied.

At least he didn’t lie.

I looked down at the folders Sergei had placed in front of me. My name appeared on all three.

Men had spent eleven years putting my name on companies, agreements, and contingency plans while telling me nothing. They had made me powerful on paper and helpless in practice. They’d used my birth and existence as a convenience.

That ended now.

“I don’t want even one more transfer,” I ground out. “No more apartments, allowances, gifts, or mystery deposits from Bellandi Holdings.”

Raffaele opened his mouth, and I lifted one finger.

“I’m not finished.”

His lips pressed together.

“I want, in my hand, the complete trust agreement, every amendment, every board appointment and decision, and a list of every person who has exercised authority in my name. I want access to the American shipping records, port contracts, and security reports. I want everything.”