Chapter 3 - The Morning Audit
Morning sunlight poured through the high windows of the fourth-floor suite, doing little to dispel the heavy tension hanging in the air.
Lucia woke up before dawn, unable to shake the image of Gaetano’s cold smile. At 7:00 AM, a maid delivered a fresh set of clothes—simple, elegant black trousers and a charcoal blouse—along with a secure comms earpiece.
By 8:30 AM, Lucia was back in Alfonso Marchetti’s private suite on the third floor.
The old man was awake, propped up against a stack of embroidered pillows, sipping black coffee with hands that shook only slightly less than the day before.
“You look pale, child,” Alfonso rasped as Lucia checked his IV drip.
“I had an eventful night,” she replied dryly, adjusting his saline flow rate. “Your charming nephew Gaetano paid me a visit in the service corridor.”
Alfonso’s white eyebrows shot up. “Gaetano? He’s bolder than I thought. Did he threaten you?”
“He told me to wear something appropriate for a funeral.”
Alfonso let out a dry, hacking cough that quickly turned into a genuine, wheezing chuckle. “Good. That means he’s desperate. A desperate man makes mistakes, and a desperate Marchetti makes fatal ones.”
“Mr. Marchetti, this isn’t a game,” Lucia said, leaning over the bed. “Your family is tearing itself apart over whatever is in that library.”
Alfonso’s expression softened. He reached out, his frail fingers lightly touching the back of her hand. “It was never about money, Lucia. My family has more money than God and less conscience than the devil. What’s in that library is truth. And truth is the only weapon that can destroy men like Gaetano.”
Before Lucia could press him further, the heavy double doors swung open.
Enzo walked in, followed by two corporate attorneys carrying thick leather briefcases and a senior partner from a downtown Manhattan firm.
“The board is assembling downstairs,” Enzo announced, his voice crisp and authoritative. “Gaetano has called an emergency shareholders' meeting for noon. He claims my grandfather is mentally incompetent and is attempting to invoke the corporate incapacity clause.”
Alfonso’s eyes flashed with dangerous light. “Incompetent? I could out-negotiate every single one of those jackals with one foot in the grave.”
“Let them try,” Enzo said smoothly. “We have the proxy votes secured. But they’re bringing a court-appointed medical examiner to verify your condition.”
Lucia frowned, stepping forward. “A medical examiner? But your heart rate and respiratory stability are still fluctuating. If they stress him out during an official examination—”
“They won't get the chance,” Enzo cut her off, looking directly at Lucia. “Because you are going to conduct the preliminary assessment before their doctor ever sets foot in this room.”
Lucia stared at him. “Me? I’m a night nurse, not a chief medical officer.”
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“You know his baseline better than anyone else in this city,” Enzo said, stepping closer. “You know every fluctuation in his pulse, every drop in his oxygen saturation. You’re going to protect him.”
Alfonso nodded approvingly. “Listen to the boy, Lucia. Show them what a real nurse can do.”
