Chapter 10 - The Trap is Set
Wednesday, 8:30 AM.
Moretti Plaza was besieged by media vans, corporate limousines, and an unprecedented presence of federal marshals and New York City police officers.
Word of an emergency shareholder confrontation had leaked to Wall Street overnight. Moretti Group’s stock was fluctuating wildly on the pre-market exchange as institutional investors, hedge fund titans, and board members poured into the grand auditorium on the fourth floor.
Behind the closed doors of the executive green room backstage, Evelyn Vance sat on a velvet sofa, dressed in an immaculate emerald-green designer suit, diamonds glittering at her throat.
Julian paced nervously across the Persian rug, his jaw swollen and bruised, clutching a glass of whiskey with shaking hands despite the early hour.
“Mother, there are federal agents in the lobby,” Julian whispered frantically. “I saw them talking to the building’s chief of security!”
“Pull yourself together, Julian!” Evelyn snapped, her voice like cracking ice. “The feds have nothing without a formal board resolution and an unsealed indictment. Dominic is bluffing. We control thirty-eight percent of the institutional proxy votes. The moment Dominic steps to the podium, I will initiate an emergency motion of no-confidence based on corporate malfeasance. The board will vote to suspend his executive powers pending an internal investigation. By the time he challenges it in court, the twenty-year statutory deadline on the St. Jude shares will have expired at midnight!”
The backstage door swung open.
Marco Bellini stepped into the room, flanked by two armed federal marshals.
“Mrs. Vance. Julian,” Marco said with a polite, razor-sharp nod. “The auditorium is at full capacity. The board of directors is seated. The Chairman requests your presence on the main stage.”
Evelyn stood up gracefully, smoothing her skirt, casting a look of utter disdain at the federal officers.
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“Tell my nephew that his little circus ends today,” Evelyn said coldly, striding past Marco into the backstage corridor.
Julian swallowed his whiskey in one desperate gulp and scurried behind her like an obedient shadow.
