Chapter Fifty
CHAPTER FIFTY
Georgia/ Two Years Ago
E van Maloney, my father’s lawyer of twenty-five years, is soaking through his suit as he sips his second glass of water. Bullets of sweat drip down his face as he looks over the paperwork that Leani found locked in a safe in their bedroom.
The combination was my mother’s birthday.
“I’m not supposed to do business outside of Nikolas Del Rossi,” he says for the third time in the past hour of being in the study he’s met my father in countless times, tugging on his shirt collar to loosen it from his pudgy neck. “When you called, I thought he would be here.”
Unfortunately for him, my father was called away to a cryptic call to the Del Rossi Group headquarters, where he thinks cops will be raiding the business. They won’t be, but Leani said we needed him distracted, and that was the first thing I could think of to get him to leave.
Whatever he’s planning on hiding will more than likely take him a few hours.
“As you can imagine, Nikolas is a little tied up at the moment. Which means you can explain to me why we found a document stating that I own shares in both MDR Inc. and The Del Rossi Group. I’m not an expert on any of this, but fifty-one percent means that I hold majority stakes in the company, so this meeting is perfectly justified.”
His throat bobs with a nervous swallow. “I haven’t seen this document before in my life,” he states.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Lincoln’s stories all these years, it’s how to tell if someone is lying. His hands are shaking as he holds the paper, his eyes won’t meet mine, and there are sweat stains around the collar of his shirt.
Leani passes me the second document that she took from his locked desk drawer. I didn’t get a chance to ask her how she knew how to pick locks. Apparently, there’s a lot I don’t know about her.
“Then how do you explain this?” I question, showing him the document with my forged signature at the bottom. It’s nearly identical to the one he’s holding, except this one shows that I signed over all of my shares to Nikolas Del Rossi. It also has Evan Maloney’s name on the bottom, where he signed and dated it five years ago.
“I…” He clears his throat. “This seems like it’s something you should be discussing with your father. Not me. It’s him I work for.”
“It isn’t like you’re going to be of any help to him where he’s going if this ever gets out,” I point out. “Unless you’re a defense attorney too?”
The pudgy man pales. “No, ma’am.”
“I didn’t think so.” I smile sweetly, turning my father’s office chair to the side and crossing one long leg over the other at the knee. “You do like being a lawyer, don’t you, Mr. Maloney?”
His eyes bolt up to mine. “Of course, Ms. Del Rossi.”
“Danforth,” I correct, holding the necklace around my neck.
His teeth grind. “Danforth. My apologies.”
“It’d be unfortunate for the events you’ve participated in to get you disbarred. Agreeing to legitimatize forged documents seems like it could really ruin somebody’s life. Don’t you think?”
He gawks at me, and I wonder what he sees.
My father was merciless when it came to getting what he wanted. I know that firsthand. The best thing I can do is channel that for this meeting so his lawyer knows I mean business.
“You said that you do business for him, but you were hired on as an attorney for The Del Rossi Group, correct?”
He gives me a terse nod. “Yes.”
“And since I own fifty-one percent shares in the company, that means I have more control over the company than my father. Is that also correct?”
Maloney’s nostrils flare. “Anybody with fifty-one percent ownership of a company would, in fact, have more say in the company’s welfare. Yes.”
He’s not confirming in words what I already know: that he signed illegal documents to give my father the full control he wanted.
“So, hypothetically, if I wanted to make changes to the company’s leadership, then I would have the power to do that. Right?”
He grinds out, “Right.”
“Including the sale of the company itself?”
He picks up a few of the papers and eventually nods, trying not to fidget with his damp shirt. “ Hypothetically, there are steps I would need to take in order to make such a hefty change, Ms. Del— Danforth . And it would take a long time to do it the right way.”
“I’m not asking you to do it tomorrow; I’m simply asking if it’s possible,” I reply easily.
“Yes,” he finally says, his jaw grinding back and forth. “If you own more shares than him, you have the power to do what you please with the Del Rossi Group, should anything happen to Nikolas or unless you buy him out. That’s what the contract says. Changing ownership will be a lengthy process, but it’s not an impossible one.”
“Good.” I lean back in the chair and look around the study, which still smells like expensive tobacco. I wonder what will happen to it. “Mr. Maloney?”
His eyes lift to mine.
“You do realize if this goes to court one day, you’re going to have to testify, right?”
For a moment, I think his heart may have stopped. It would be unfortunate if he suffers cardiac arrest, considering we’re far from done here. “My job would be at risk if they knew—”
“That my father blackmailed you.” I cut him off pointedly. “Deals have been cut before for people who have done a lot worse. I’m sure with the right convincing, you’d get a slap on the wrist and be told not to do it again. Especially since you’re making it right .”
His hand drifts over the papers, collecting them into one pile. “As long as I never have to be involved with this company or family again,” he mumbles under his voice.
“Once this deal is finished, and Nikolas is far, far away, I’m sure you won’t have to. I know I plan on being gone the second the ink dries on the contract.”
He stands, sweat stains darkening what was once a pretty sky-blue button-down as he fastens his jacket. “For your sake, I hope you are. Because the people you’re playing with are not harmless, Ms. Danforth . I would know. I’ve had the misfortune of getting tied up with them for far too many years.”
I stand, flattening a hand down my dress. I wore my prettiest one—purple, not too tight or too short or too revealing. But enough to show that I want to be taken seriously without being considered a threat.
I gesture toward the door, following him out to make sure he doesn’t linger any longer than he needs to in case my father gets back earlier than expected.
It’s only when I open the front door that he turns to me and says, “I felt bad for what my part was in this when he asked me to help him. You were so young. So innocent.”
I hold the door tighter. “But you still went through with it.”
“I was young too and needed the money.”
An excuse. One he’s clearly already justified to make himself feel better about himself. “And what about now? Do you feel bad for me for the hell I’ve been put through thanks to your hand in it? All the control I’ve lost? The lying I’ve endured?”
To my surprise, he meets my eyes. “Perhaps part of me still does,” he admits, dotting his sweaty head with his handkerchief before tucking it back into his pocket. “But I can see that you are far more like your father than I’m sure he even knows, which means you’ll be just fine.”
It’s clearly not a compliment based on the sneer he gives me, but I still smile at him regardless.
At the end of the day, when the paperwork is filed, he won’t be my problem anymore. He can judge me all he wants, but just like him, I’m doing what I need to in order to survive.
“Thank you for coming,” I say.
He grumbles under his breath while getting into his car and slamming the door.
When he’s out of sight, I close my eyes and let the facade fade. My palms are clammy, and my heart is racing a million miles an hour. I was glad he didn’t pick up on that, or he wouldn’t have said as much as he did.
Leani’s hand brushes my arm. “It’s not true. You aren’t like him.”
“I know.” I turn to her. “I asked Luca to help me set up a meeting with Stefan Mangino. I think it’s time we weighed our options, Leani. If you want this to end, we might need more than the police’s help to do that. And now we have a bargaining chip.”
She swallows. “You think he would help?”
I take a deep breath. “I think that his hate for my father will be exactly what we need to walk away from this.”
For the first time since she came to me, I see something in her eyes I haven’t seen before.
Hope.
She takes my hand. “Thank you.”
I shake my head. “Don’t thank me yet.”
*
The smell of cigar smoke makes my nose itch as I wait in the corner booth of Sofie’s Deli on Eighth Avenue. It’s a tiny establishment in the city that doesn’t exactly look up to code but has had people coming and going since I sat down twenty minutes ago.
I look at my phone.
Twenty- three minutes ago.
When the back door opens and a plume of smoke rolls in, it triggers old memories of my days spent in my father’s study. But all of those fade when Stefan Mangino casually sits in the spot across from me.
“Ms. Del Rossi,” he greets.
“Danforth,” I correct by default, earning the smallest curve of his mouth.
It takes everything in me not to fidget when he gives me a once-over, landing on the silver pendant hanging from my neck. “Of course,” he remarks, studying the GD engraved on the heart. “How could I forget?”
I don’t answer.
“I was surprised when Luca told me you requested a meeting,” he admits, smiling when an older woman brings over two drinks that neither of us ordered. “Thank you, Deidra. Tell Joseph I’ll return his call later about his proposal.”
The woman nods once. “I will. Thank you.”
When she disappears, he turns back to me. “I thought this might be the best place to speak. For comfort reasons.”
I highly doubt he cares about my comfort. “It seems like a…” Nice isn’t quite the word I’m looking for, so I settle with, “busy place.”
Humor dances in his eyes. “It could use some work. The owners are interested in working with me to get a loan of sorts to fix it up.”
A loan. “That’s kind of you.”
He smiles. “Believe it or not, I’m not an unreasonable man. However, if people make deals with me and then choose to back out on them, then it becomes a problem. I can’t afford problems in my line of work.”
“Investments,” I say carefully.
He chuckles. “Among other things.”
Gathering what little courage I have, I sit straighter in my seat. “My father doesn’t love me as much as you think he does. If he did, none of this would have happened.”
Interest arches one of his brows. “And what is ‘this’ exactly?”
“You believe in close family values, right?” I question.
Stefan Mangino dips his head. “Yes.”
“Then would you turn away your child the second you realize they can’t give you what you need anymore? Would you send them off with no knowledge of the world for anybody to take advantage of? I know…” I pause. “I know about your son. I’m sorry for your loss. I imagine you cared about him and wanted a lot for his future.”
Something passive darkens his face. “I did.”
“My father’s actions don’t seem like love to me. He was trying to make sure he kept his business. That is what he loves. Money. A good reputation. At this point, I’m a faraway thought in the back of his mind.”
His head tilts as he studies me. “Why exactly did you want to meet me?”
Wetting my lips, I rip the Band-Aid off. “I wanted to believe that the man I knew could be saved, but he’s gone. He’s been gone since my mother—” I swallow the words. “That version of him has been gone for a very long time. It doesn’t exist anymore. If you truly want to take away the one thing he loves, I can help. All I ask is that you leave me and my husband out of it when it’s done.”
The smile he offered me before stretches wider across his face. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re very much like your uncle?”
Uncle William? “I hear I’m more like my mother than anything.”
His smile doesn’t fade or waver. “I knew them both, and you’re a perfect mixture of the two. Beautiful and ruthless.”
I cringe at the compliment that doesn’t feel like one.
“In this world, my dear,” he muses, “that isn’t a bad thing.”
“But I don’t want to be part of it,” I tell him, meeting his eyes and holding them. “I never asked for any of this. All I want is to be far away from here, where my father’s indiscretions can’t follow me.”
“How exactly do you propose to do that?”
“I’ll sell you The Del Rossi Group to do as you please with,” I answer. “I don’t want to know what that is, frankly. But we both know that my father is slowly cracking. Do you want to keep doing business with somebody who could put yours at risk or take it over so you know it’s in capable hands?”
Something sparks in his eyes. “And what exactly do you plan to do about your father?”
“The same thing I’m sure you’ve been planning to,” I reply easily. “Set him up to take the fall. After all, you don’t invest in failing businesses.”
A group of people walk in and greet the women behind the counter by name. This place may not be aesthetically pleasing, but the food must be good enough to look past.
Stefan Mangino leans forward. “And how do I know you’re serious about this? Offering me a company you don’t have any say in is a very risky move, Ms. Danforth.”
That’s where he’s wrong.
Grabbing the copy of the paper I acquired from Evan Maloney, I slide it over to him. “That is where you’re wrong. Because my uncle left me fifty-one percent of the shares in MDR Inc., which was bought out by the Del Rossi Group using forged documents and an outside investor.”
He knows who the investor is based on the quirk to his brow and curve to his lip.
“My father recently forged paperwork in my name that said I willingly sold him those shares when I knew nothing about them. Last I checked, forgery is illegal.”
His eyes sparkle with something that resembles pride and humor.
I take a deep breath and lean back. “I may not know a lot about your world, but I do know that the only thing Al Capone went down for was tax evasion.”
Stefan Mangino glances between me and the document. “You do realize locking your father away would put him in a peculiar spot if he chose to talk.”
Swallowing, I nod. “I’m not going to beg you for my father’s life. He clearly didn’t care enough about mine to give me the same courtesy. But that doesn’t mean I want anything bad to happen to him. I understand that people have to pay the consequences of their actions. And his are piling up. Trust me when I say that the shame of this scandal would be plenty punishment enough. Being plastered on every news station and paper would damage him more than losing me would.”
A thoughtful noise rises from his throat as he scans the document before sliding it back to me and gesturing for somebody behind the counter.
“This is not going to happen overnight,” he points out. “Deals like this take time.”
“So give me time.”
It’s bold. Not a question.
Thankfully, he doesn’t seem offended. “Your husband is going to make this difficult for you. He already has a foot in the door that should never have been there. If you’re able to pull this off, you’ll need to get rid of him first to be successful.”
Get rid of him.
The same woman from before comes over with a bag of food that would normally make my stomach rumble if my appetite were intact. He passes her a few large bills and waves her off, saying, “Keep it.”
When it’s just us, he takes one of the sandwiches out of the bag and sets it in front of me. “Because I’m inclined to agree with you, I’ll give you time. Your father losing everything would make me a very happy man. But if my name becomes part of the equation, there will be a problem.”
“I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”
He stands. “Beautiful and ruthless,” he says again, much quieter as he watches me. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Danforth.”
After he leaves, I close my eyes and try to calm my shaking hands under the table.
Get rid of him.
It’s the last thing I want to do.
But haven’t I already started?