60
LUCA BELLANDI
The board calculated the cost before discussing the crime.
In the Palazzo’s meeting room, each board member had two sets of documents: the investigation and the financial projections. A hotel manager and a maintenance technician waited outside. They would join the discussion on wages and contracts after the evidence had been presented.
Bianchi opened the projections first. He scanned the column of estimated losses and asked who knew what the investigation contained.
I sat at the head of the table. Sofia, a shareholder in the group, was on my right. Lorenzo sat across from us with his lawyers.
“We can still limit the damage,” Bianchi argued. “Lorenzo’s suspension is already in effect. We need time before releasing anything.”
“And the threat against my great-granddaughter?” Sofia asked. “Does that wait for the right moment too?”
“We’re not here to judge matters of sentiment.”
“The evidence has already been handed over. The group’s statement needs to protect those involved without concealing why its management is under investigation,” I said.
Lorenzo leaned back.
“Evidence supplied by Beatrice Rinaldi, a woman who’s tried to blackmail this family countless times.”
“The payments stand independently of her testimony.”
“You’re the one who threw her out. Now you want to use the group to fix what you did?”
I took the blow.
“No. My responsibility is mine. Yours will be yours.”
The lawyer presented the payments and the files Beatrice had handed over, distinguishing what had been confirmed from what still required forensic examination.
We heard Lorenzo talking to her about Marinelli and the second payment.
Then a recent message appeared on-screen: “If Luca moves forward, release the story about the child with the heart condition. The press will do the rest.” Bianchi closed the projections.
“That’s been taken out of context,” Lorenzo said.
“What context makes exposing a child acceptable?” Sofia asked.
The finance director, who was working with the auditors on the projections, spoke up.
“A fall in the share price doesn’t in itself take cash out of the business. The immediate risk is financing that may be reviewed and payments already due in the coming weeks.”
“I agree we need to protect employees. I don’t agree that means concealing crimes.”
When the employee representatives came in, I presented the proposal I’d prepared with the director: an initial reserve covering three months of payroll and essential payments, funded by available cash and a contribution from me.
The audit would remain independent of executive management.
I would step down from operational leadership while they reviewed the structure that had reported to me.
“Who will administer the fund?” the hotel manager asked.
“A committee of independent members and employee representatives will monitor the payments. The finance director will present the cash position every week.”
“And after those three months?”
“We’ll review the reserve each month. I can’t promise it will cover every loss. Dividends will be suspended until we restore the minimum set for those payments.”
“Including yours?”
“Including mine.”
The maintenance technician raised his hand.
“What about contractors? When revenue falls, the first cuts are cleaning, laundry, and outside maintenance. They don’t appear on the payroll you’re promising to protect.”
I consulted the spreadsheet and found the gap. The plan prioritized small contracts but didn’t prevent hotels from canceling essential services to protect their own figures.
“We need to include those services in the projection. I won’t promise to maintain every contract without knowing the cost.”
“And who guarantees that isn’t exactly where they’ll cut?”
“Any proposed reductions will have to go through the committee during that period. We’ll put that in writing before voting on the reserve.”
The director asked for a recess to review the figures with the representatives.
The plan also included an external whistleblower channel and a review of the access Lorenzo had used.
Separately, I proposed putting changes to the family agreement before the shareholders—the rules that made the existence of descendants a battle for control.
“You’re rewriting a century of family control because of a personal scandal,” Bianchi said.
“That agreement gave Lorenzo an advantage if I had no children. It needs to be reviewed.”
The room erupted.
“Your resignation will be seen as an admission of guilt!”
“The group will be left without leadership!”
“The banks will invoke their clauses!”
I waited for the noise to subside.
“There will be interim management,” I replied. “And I’ll hand over my office records. I refused communications that should have reached me. I can’t be the person who decides what gets examined.”
“You’re destroying our parents’ legacy,” Lorenzo said.
“Their legacy isn’t a stock price.”
“It’s easy to be moral when you have more money than you could ever spend.”
“The contribution comes from my own resources. I’ve also offered some of my holdings as collateral for a credit line, subject to the lender’s assessment.”
The director showed the amounts and the conditions still outstanding. The sale of a London property would help replace the money I was withdrawing from my investments. We didn’t need that sale to make the first deposit.
“Your lawyer approved this?” Lorenzo asked mockingly.
“My lawyer explained the risks. I decided to take them.”
“You expect everyone to applaud the billionaire for taking a risk that still leaves him a billionaire?”
“I don’t expect applause. I expect the workers not to pay for our family.”
After the recess, a majority approved the continuation of Lorenzo’s suspension, cooperation with the investigation, and the initial reserve with the changes discussed.
I abstained from measures directly involving my brother.
The suspension of executive bonuses also passed; reform of the family agreement would go to the shareholders.
I voted on the general measures and formally stepped down from operational leadership.
Bianchi would take over on an interim basis, with extraordinary decisions subject to board approval.
Before the meeting ended, Beatrice joined by video with her lawyer.
She confirmed the instructions given at the hotel and her involvement in the campaign against Gabriela.
Asked about the old tests, she said what she’d told me in S?o Paulo: she didn’t know their origin.
The question was recorded for the investigation.
At the end, Lorenzo stood and approached me while his lawyer gathered the folders.
“When she chooses Sampaio, you’ll realize you lost everything for nothing.”
I answered quietly.
“The truth doesn’t stop being true because it doesn’t give me what I want.”
My brother left with his lawyer. He’d been called to answer questions from the authorities; this meeting didn’t decide whether he would be arrested. The board members began making calls. The hotel manager and the technician were the last to leave. He stopped in front of me.
“My daughter works at the Palazzo. I don’t want to hear that you did this for us. I want to see wages paid on time.”
“The first deposit will be confirmed tomorrow. The committee will receive the payment report every week.”
“Then we’ll see.”
I walked out to the garden. Gabriela’s design remained, but the rosebushes were dormant in the cold. Sofia found me near the bench beneath the pergola.
“Eat something before you leave,” she said.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Forty-nine years old, and you still think coffee is lunch.”
I gave a tired laugh.
“I could lose control of the group.”
“Perhaps it would be good to find out who you are without it.”
“For years, I thought the group was the one thing that couldn’t betray me.”
Sofia laid her hand over mine. For a moment, we looked at the rosebushes.
My phone vibrated before I could answer. Gabriela was calling. Sofia squeezed my arm and went back inside.
“They upheld Lorenzo’s suspension. The investigation continues. Bianchi will take over operations while I’m away from the post.”
“Are you all right?”
The simple question almost undid me.
“I don’t know.”
“The children want to talk to you.”
I heard voices competing for the phone. Heitor wanted to show me a loose tooth. Camila asked whether her great-grandmother liked yellow. Noah wanted to confirm when I’d be back.
“The day after tomorrow, when school finishes,” I answered. “Tomorrow I’ll still be traveling.”
“Are you sleeping there tonight?” Noah asked.
“On the plane.”
“So your bed will be empty?”
I looked up at the bedroom windows.
“Yes. Yours will still be waiting for you at the guesthouse.”
That night, I authorized the initial contribution from the funds already available and signed the papers to put the London property on the market. The committee would receive confirmation of the transfer without having to wait for a buyer.
I packed after sending the final information to the interim management team. Messages were still arriving when I left. I would answer requests from the investigation; the next day’s decisions now belonged to other people.
I landed in Brazil the following morning and went by car to Paraty. I slept at the rental house. The next day, I parked near the school before the bell. Noah appeared behind Heitor, his jacket open and backpack askew.
“Your bed wasn’t empty today.”
“No. I slept in it.”
“On the plane too?”
“A little.”
Camila hugged my waist. Heitor showed me his loose tooth before even saying good morning. I crouched to examine it. When he opened his mouth, I saw Noah move closer to show me where it wobbled.
On the way to the car, Noah slipped his hand into mine for three steps. He let go when he noticed, but didn’t pull back or say anything to correct the gesture.