Chapter 2 - The Power of Attorney
The legal document sitting on my lap felt heavier than an anchor.
It was a pre-drafted petition for Full Legal Guardianship and Power of Attorney, prepared by my family’s head corporate counsel, Marcus Sterling. The terms were absolute: if signed, it would grant Arya complete control over my assets, my medical decisions, and my voting shares in Corvino Maritime Shipping—declaring me mentally unfit due to severe traumatic shock.
"Where did you get this?" I asked, my voice dangerously low.
Tessa wrung out a washcloth over the basin, her hands steady despite the gravity of what she had handed me.
"Your fiancée left it on the kitchen counter yesterday afternoon while she was arguing with your brother Dominic," Tessa said. "She thought the housekeeping staff didn't speak English. She told him that once you sign this, Dominic gets the harbor contracts, and she gets fifty percent of your liquid holdings."
A cold rage settled over me, burning away the lingering fog of self-pity that had trapped me for six months.
"She told Dominic I would sign it?"
"She said you were broken enough to sign anything put in front of you," Tessa replied, meeting my eyes without flinching. "She said you were tired of fighting."
I looked at Tessa, really looking at her. She was exhausted, wearing scrubs worn thin at the elbows, taking care of a man who could destroy her career with a single phone call if she were lying.
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked. "You could have taken your paycheck, stayed quiet, and walked away. If Arya finds out you took this, she'll have you fired and blacklisted."
Tessa wiped her hands on a dry towel and leaned against the foot of my bed, folding her arms.
"My father worked forty years in the coal mines in West Virginia," she said quietly. "When he got sick, the company lawyers brought him a piece of paper just like that one. They told him it was for his pension. It was actually a release form waiving his medical coverage. He died six months later because he couldn't afford his treatment. I know what predatory people look like, Mr. Corvino. You might be a wealthy man, but right now, you’re just a target in your own home. And I don't let people get preyed on on my watch."
For the first time since the bullet took my legs, I felt a spark of fire ignite in my core.
"Take this back," I said, folding the paper precisely along its creases and handing it back to her. "Put it back exactly where you found it."
Tessa frowned. "You're not going to confront her?"
"Not yet," I said, my mind racing through corporate structures, asset security, and legal defenses. "In business, Tessa, you never strike when your enemy expects it. You let them build their trap until they walk into it themselves."
The bedroom door suddenly swung open.
Arya stood on the threshold, carrying three shopping bags from high-end boutiques on Worth Avenue. Her eyes swept over the room, settling on Tessa with immediate disdain.
"Why are you still in here?" Arya demanded, stepping into the bedroom. "Bath time took forty minutes today. You’re paid to work, not to chat."
Tessa immediately adjusted her posture, slipping into the silent, professional role expected of domestic staff. "I was just finishing elevating Mr. Corvino's foot, ma'am."
"Well, finish and get out," Arya spat, dropping her bags onto an armchair. "Vincent needs to rest before his visitors arrive."
Tessa nodded respectfully to me. "I'll be back at two for your passive range-of-motion exercises, Mr. Corvino."
"Thank you, Tessa," I said clearly.
Arya waited until the door closed behind Tessa before walking over to the side of my bed. She reached out to smooth my hair back, but I subtly tilted my head out of her reach, pretending to adjust my pillow.
"Dominic is coming up in an hour with Marcus," Arya said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "They have some routine corporate documents for you to sign regarding the harbor lease. I told them you were feeling clear-headed today."
"Did you?" I asked, looking her dead in the eye.
"Of course, darling," she smiled, touching her diamond ring. "We just want to take the stress off your shoulders. You shouldn't be worrying about board meetings while you're confined to this room."
"You're right," I said softly, allowing a tired, defeated expression to wash over my face—the exact expression she wanted to see. "I am tired, Arya. So very tired."
Her eyes brightened with a flash of triumph that she couldn't entirely hide. "Don't worry, my love. By tonight, everything will be taken care of."
She walked toward her dressing room, leaving me alone in the quiet master suite.
I looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was 11:30 AM.
I reached under my mattress, pulled out my private encrypted cellphone—the one my security team had hidden for me before Dominic restricted my official calls—and dialed a number I hadn't called in six months.
"Vincent?" a gravelly voice answered on the second ring.
"Frank," I said. "I need you, your team, and three forensic accountants at the estate by midnight tonight. Enter through the service docks."
Frank, my former chief of security who had been ousted by Dominic after the shooting, didn't hesitate for a single second.
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"We've been waiting for this call, Boss," Frank said. "What's the play?"
"We're reclaiming the empire," I replied. "Starting with the snakes in my bedroom."
