Chapter 3 - The Threat from London
Julian Vance was the black sheep of the Vance family—a ruthless, ambitious speculator who managed the family's European investments with a reputation for playing dirty. Unlike his father, Victor, who respected traditional business honor, Julian was a predator who viewed every conflict as a war to be won at any cost.
The following afternoon, I sat in my private office on the top floor of the Moretti Tower in downtown Boston. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the harbor and the city skyline.
The double doors of my office swung open without a knock.
Julian Vance walked in, wearing an expensive tailored Italian suit, his dark hair slicked back, a smug smirk plastered across his face. Two heavy-set bodyguards attempted to follow him, but Marco immediately stepped in front of them, placing his massive hands on their chests and shoving them back into the hallway before shutting the doors.
Julian didn't seem bothered. He casually walked across the hardwood floor and dropped into the leather armchair across from my desk.
"Gabriel," Julian said smoothly, resting his ankle over his knee. "You're looking remarkably calm for a man who just declared war on my family."
I didn't move. I remained seated behind my desk, holding a silver pen between my fingers. "You walked into my office without permission, Julian. You have two minutes to explain why I shouldn't have Marco throw you out of the window."
Julian chuckled, reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a glossy folder and slid it across the glass desk toward me.
"My sister is currently crying herself to sleep at my father's house, claiming you broke her heart over a clumsy domestic worker," Julian said, his tone turning sharp and malicious. "Inside that folder are draft articles slated for publication in the Boston Globe and the New York Times tomorrow morning."
I didn't open the folder. "What are the headlines?"
"Gabriel Moretti: The Mafia Heir Who Abuses His Fiancee," Julian recited with a wicked grin. "It details how you held my sister hostage in your estate, subjected her to emotional cruelty, and used your criminal connections to force my father into silence."
I looked at Julian, my expression unreadable. "You think fake headlines scare me?"
"They won't land you in prison, Gabriel," Julian conceded, leaning forward, his eyes burning with greed. "But they will destroy the Moretti Group's pending bid for the $500 million Boston Harbor Redevelopment project. The city council cannot award a massive public contract to a man facing a public relations nightmare involving domestic abuse."
"What do you want, Julian?" I asked softly.
"Simple," Julian replied, spreading his hands. "You reinstate the engagement with Camille. Or, if your ego is too fragile for that, you transfer thirty percent of the Moretti Harbor shares to my private investment firm in London as compensation for emotional damages to my family. You have forty-eight hours."
I leaned back in my leather chair, setting the silver pen down on the glass desk.
"You really don't know who I am, do you, Julian?" I said quietly.
Julian’s smirk faltered slightly at the absolute absence of fear in my voice. "I know who you are, Moretti. You're a man with too much to lose."
"Your father knew better," I said, standing up and towering over him. "Your father knew that when a Vance crosses a Moretti, the consequences aren't played out in newspapers. They are played out in dark rooms."
I pressed the intercom button on my phone. "Marco."
The doors flew open instantly.
"Escort Mr. Vance to the street," I commanded without looking at Julian. "And tell my legal team to initiate a full corporate audit of every offshore account associated with Vance European Holdings."
May you like
Julian stood up quickly, his face darkening with rage. "You're making a massive mistake, Moretti! By tomorrow morning, your reputation will be in ashes!"
"Get him out of my sight," I said.
