3. Leander #2
“The fact that I’m not interested in the family business doesn’t mean I’m oblivious.” I mutter with a wave of my hand.
Roberto slowly picks up his napkin and dabs at the corner of his mouth. A faint, almost imperceptible tilt appears at the corner of his lips.
"Intelligence over impulse," Roberto whispers softly, his voice cutting through the quiet room. He turns his gaze to Vincenzo. "You see the difference, Vincenzo? You want to break a knee and create new enemies. Your brother cuts the supply line and turns the enemy into a beggar."
Vincenzo’s face darkens, a deep red color creeping up his neck. He grips his fork so tightly his knuckles turn white. "It's easy to play chess from an air-conditioned office, Father. Out on the street, people respect strength, not financial paperwork."
"People respect results," Roberto counters coldly.
He turns back to me, his tone dropping into an authoritative register he uses when he wants something.
"You have a natural head for this business, Leander.
You always have. Leave the hospital. Come back to the estate.
I will give you control of the northern logistics division by the end of the month. "
Here it comes. The same offer he's made every six months for the past ten years.
"No," I respond immediately without missing a beat as I set my fork down.
"You're wasting your time stitching up drunk drivers and gang members," Roberto presses, his voice tightening slightly. "You carry the Moretti name. You belong at this table."
"My surname is Sartori," I reply, keeping my voice completely level. "And my contract with Metro General is for three years. I intend to fulfill it."
"You're a doctor because you're hiding," Vincenzo snaps, leaning across the table toward me. "You think wearing a white coat washes off where you came from? You're a bastard son born out of wedlock to a woman who was killed instead of you!"
The air in the room instantly goes ice cold.
Cosimo stops chewing, his eyes widening slightly as he looks between us. The two guards near the door shift their weight, their eyes fixing on me.
Did he just…
I look at Vincenzo. I let my gaze lock onto his eyes, stripped of all civil restraint. Vincenzo’s arrogant smile wobbles. He tries to hold my gaze, but after two seconds, his eyes flicker downward toward his wine glass, his breathing becoming shallow.
Before anyone can say another word, the double doors of the study open, and a man enters carrying a thick leather folder. It's Arthur Bellini, the family's senior legal counsel.
"Forgive the interruption, Don Roberto," Bellini bows his head slightly as he steps up to the table. "I have the finalized paperwork regarding the Rossi agreement."
Roberto shifts his gaze away from me, the tension in his shoulders easing just enough for the rest of the room to breathe again. "Report, Arthur."
"Mr. Rossi has agreed to all structural terms," Bellini mutters, opening the folder and laying two documents beside Roberto’s plate.
"The merger of his transit lines with our eastern distribution network is contingent on the formal betrothal contract.
The Rossi family has confirmed that their eldest daughter is prepared to finalize the agreement. "
Poor girl probably has no idea of what she’s walking into.
"Excellent," Roberto nods, signing his name at the bottom of the first page with a gold fountain pen. "The alliance secures our eastern flank for the next decade."
Vincenzo lets out a loud, triumphant laugh, leaning back in his chair and flashing a smug grin at me.
"Hear that, bastard?" Vincenzo sneers, his confidence returning now that the attention has shifted back to him.
"While you're down in the dirt wiping up blood for fifty dollars an hour, I'm taking the Rossi family's prize daughter. A real woman from a real family. She’s going to wear my ring, manage my house, and bear the next heir to this family. "
Bellini hands the pen to Vincenzo, who signs his name across the betrothal line.
Vincenzo tosses the pen onto the table, looking at me like he just won a prize. He expects me to jump up or yell, show jealousy, or fight him over the disrespect.
I stand up slowly from my chair. I button the middle button of my suit jacket, smooth down the lapels, and pick up my briefcase from the floor.
"Enjoy the rest of your dinner, Father," I greet quietly, my voice entirely devoid of emotion.
"You're leaving?" Roberto asks, his brow furrowing.
"I have an early surgery," I reply.
I turn my back on Vincenzo, ignoring the smug smile on his face and the silent, watchful gaze of Cosimo. I walk down the long, polished hallway toward the front entrance, my footsteps echoing against the marble floor.
Mateo holds the door open for me as I reach the courtyard.
"Have a good evening, Master Leander," the old man whispers as I step out into the rain.
"Goodnight, Mateo," I nod.
I get into the back of the SUV, pulling the door shut behind me. The engine turns over, and the driver accelerates down the winding driveway toward the iron gates.
I pull my phone from my pocket and stare at the screen as message notifications from Julián pops up, then slip it back into my pocket without opening a single message.
Let Vincenzo celebrate his arranged marriage. He can have the family politics, the contracts, and the games. As long as they stay out of my way, I don't care what they do.
The gates slide open, releasing us onto the public road, and the estate fades into the darkness behind us.