Chapter 15 - THE AFTERMATH OF THE FALLWithin forty-eight hours of the arbitration hearing, the board of directors unanimously voted to strip Dominic of all remaining voting shares, severing his connection to the company permanently. The institutional investors, terrified of being linked to a federal criminal probe, pulled their capital and fled like rats from a sinking ship.
I spent the rest of the week restructuring the internal design teams, renaming the core studio lines to honor the forgotten creators—including a dedicated Moretti Heritage Collection to pay homage to the artisans whose work had been stolen decades ago.
Yet, despite the professional triumph, the personal scars remained.
Late one evening, long after the office staff had gone home, I sat at my desk looking at a framed photograph of Eli and me taken during our quiet weekends in Connecticut—back before the gala, before the blood, before the betrayal.
The intercom chimed softly.
"Nora," Elena’s voice came through, sounding hesitant. "There's... someone downstairs in the public lobby. Security tried to turn him away, but he's refusing to leave. He says he won't move until he speaks to you."
"Who is it, Elena?" I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose to ward off a looming migraine.
"It's Dominic."
My hand froze over the mouse. "Tell him to leave. If he doesn't, call the police and have him arrested for violating the restraining order."
"I tried," Elena said quietly. "He doesn't care about the police anymore, Nora. He looks... broken. He's standing out in the freezing snow without a coat, just staring up at your office window."
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I stared at the dark glass reflection of myself in the window. The woman looking back wasn't the timid housewife who had worn a blue dress to an anniversary gala five weeks ago. She was a survivor.
"Let him up," I said. "Send him to the private conservatory on the twentieth floor. I'll meet him there."
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