Chapter 12 - THE HEIRESS OF MORETTI-DESANTISBack in Manhattan, the corporate landscape was shifting rapidly. With Moretti-DeSantis Global dominating the financial sector, my father officially announced his retirement, naming me as co-managing director alongside Luca DeSantis.
The transition sent shockwaves through Wall Street. The media, which had once painted me as the fragile, invisible shadow of Ryan Caldwell, now dubbed me "The Ice Queen of Wall Street"—a title I wore with quiet amusement.
"Another profile piece in Forbes," Luca said, tossing the morning magazine onto my mahogany desk as he walked into my office. He leaned against the edge, crossing his arms with a knowing smile. "They're calling you the most strategic mind in private equity since your father."
I didn't look up from the financial reports I was signing. "Let them write what they want. Words are cheap. Market share is permanent."
"True," Luca murmured, his voice dipping into a warmer, softer register. "Though I noticed you skipped the annual charity gala last night. The committee was devastated. Half the city's elite showed up just hoping to see what you were wearing."
I finally looked up, meeting his steady, intense gaze. "I had better things to do than watch men in expensive tuxedos pretend they care about art preservation while plotting their next corporate hostile takeover."
"Like what?" he asked, stepping a fraction closer.
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"Like auditing our international reserves and making sure we didn't miss a single loophole left behind by Marcus Vance's associates," I replied dryly.
Luca let out a low, rich chuckle. "Remind me never to get on your bad side, Isabella. I like living."
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