Chapter 7 - The Desperate Negotiation
Three days into the embargo, the Moretti family was on the brink of total collapse.
Their shipments were rotting in the Bennett warehouses, and their buyers were threatening to walk away.
Vincent had exhausted every channel trying to reach my father.
Arthur Bennett refused to take his calls, stating he only spoke to men who honored their contracts.
Desperation drove Vincent to do something incredibly foolish.
He bypassed the syndicate guards and showed up at the upscale restaurant where I was having lunch.
I was sitting in a private booth, enjoying a glass of vintage wine with my lawyer.
Vincent looked terrible.
His eyes were bloodshot, his designer suit was rumpled, and his arrogance had been replaced by exhaustion.
He slid into the booth across from me without asking for permission.
My security detail stepped forward immediately, hands hovering near their holstered weapons.
I raised a single finger, silently ordering them to stand down.
I wanted to hear what my soon-to-be ex-husband had to say.
Vincent looked at me, attempting to use the charm that had once won my heart.
He whispered my name, his voice thick with fake emotion.
He told me that things had gotten out of hand and that we needed to stop this madness.
I smiled politely and asked him to define the word madness.
He leaned across the table, begging me to call off my family before blood spilled on the streets.
He promised he would never speak to Sophia again and swore he would make it up to me.
I slowly set my wine glass down on the crisp white tablecloth.
I told him he was deeply confused about the nature of our current relationship.
I explained that I was not a jealous housewife throwing a temper tantrum to get my husband's attention.
I was the daughter of Arthur Bennett, executing a calculated hostile takeover of his family's assets.
His face dropped as the cold reality of my words hit him.
He tried to shift tactics, puffing out his chest and attempting to threaten me.
He warned me that the Moretti capos were restless and that they would not let a woman destroy their livelihoods.
I let out a soft, genuine laugh.
I asked him if he honestly believed his capos were angry at me.
I pulled a printed document from my legal folder and slid it across the table.
It was a formal transcript from the Moretti leadership council's secret meeting the night before.
Julian had heavily bugged their underground boardroom years ago.
Vincent stared at the paper, his eyes scanning the highlighted paragraphs in absolute horror.
His own men were discussing a mutiny.
They were planning to depose Vincent and hand him over to my father to restore the peace treaty.
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I leaned forward, dropping my voice to a lethal whisper.
I told him his empire was already gone; he was just the last person in Chicago to realize it.
