Chapter 4 - THE AWAKENING OF ELENA CARUSO
Arthur Sterling arrived in fourteen minutes.
He looked like a man who had dressed in the dark, his tie askew and his briefcase clutched to his chest like a shield.
I met him in the formal parlor.
A single crystal lamp illuminated the room.
“Mrs. Caruso,” Arthur breathed, wiping sweat from his forehead.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Sit down, Arthur.”
He sat on the edge of the velvet settee.
I slid three documents across the polished coffee table.
“What are these?” he asked, adjusting his glasses.
“My resignation from the Caruso Foundation board,” I said smoothly.
“And?”
“And an immediate freeze on all joint liquid accounts tied to Dante’s personal spending.”
Arthur dropped his pen.
“Freeze the accounts?”
“Mrs. Caruso, that requires Mr. Caruso’s dual signature.”
“Read clause fourteen of our prenuptial agreement, Arthur.”
Arthur’s eyes widened.
He flipped frantically through a manila folder he had brought along.
His finger traced down the legal jargon.
“In the event of public humiliation or documented infidelity,” Arthur read aloud, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“The injured party holds sole executive authority to suspend corporate liquidity for ninety days.”
“Documented infidelity,” I tapped the screen of Dante’s burner phone lying on the table.
“I have four hundred text messages, hotel receipts, and photographic evidence.”
“Would you like me to email them to you, or can we proceed with the freeze?”
Arthur stared at me as if he were seeing a ghost.
For eight years, everyone in Manhattan thought Elena Caruso was a quiet ornament.
They didn’t know I graduated top of my class at Columbia Law before Dante swept me off my feet and convinced me to stay home.
“It will trigger a market panic,” Arthur warned, his hands shaking.
“Caruso Atlantic stock will drop twenty points by morning.”
“Let it drop,” I said coldly.
“Sign the freeze orders, Arthur.”
“Or find a new lawyer when Nico Valenti takes over my shares.”
Arthur didn’t hesitate anymore.
He pulled a gold fountain pen from his breast pocket.
He signed every page without reading the fine print.
When he finished, he handed the papers back to me with trembling fingers.
“It’s done, Mrs. Caruso.”
“Good.”
“What is your next move?”
I stood up, walking to the tall French windows overlooking Madison Avenue.
May you like
“Dante thinks he can humiliate me in public.”
“Tomorrow morning, the city of New York is going to find out what happens when you cross a Caruso who was never afraid of the dark.”
