Chapter 9 - Father and Son
Adriano picked up the heavy plastic telephone receiver with a trembling hand, pressing it against his ear. Matteo did the same on the other side of the glass.
“Father,” Adriano whispered, his voice cracking. “How... why are you here?”
“I came to deliver a message,” Matteo said, his voice level and devoid of warmth. “Not from myself. From Isabella.”
Adriano’s jaw tightened, bitterness flashing in his sunken eyes. “She sent you here to gloat? To rub her victory in my face while I rot in this cage?”
“Isabella doesn't need to gloat, Adriano. Gloating is for people who are insecure in their power,” Matteo replied calmly. “She sent me here to inform you that the final corporate restructuring has been legally recorded. Your remaining personal shares have been formally dissolved and transferred into a sovereign trust bearing your son’s name.”
Adriano slammed his fist against the glass partition, the sound echoing sharply through the visiting room. “That was my birthright! Those shares belonged to me! She stole my legacy!”
“You didn't have a legacy, son. You had an allowance,” Matteo said coldly, leaning slightly on his cane. “You tried to sell our ports to Victor Reeve, you betrayed your family, and you traded an empire for a mistress who vanished the second your accounts were frozen. You didn't lose your legacy to Isabella. You forfeited it through your own stupidity.”
Adriano stared at his father, hot tears of rage and humiliation spilling down his cheeks. “And my son? Will he even know my name?”
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“He will know he is a Moretti and a Romano,” Matteo said, turning his back toward the exit. “And he will be raised by a mother who taught the entire underworld and corporate elite what real strength looks like. Consider yourself fortunate that she allowed you to keep breathing, Adriano. Because if it were up to me, you wouldn't even have this glass between us.”
The heavy door slammed shut behind the patriarch, leaving Adriano alone in the suffocating silence of his cell.
