Chapter 16 - The Shadow from the Past
Three weeks later, the transition of power was complete.
The Montecillo shipping empire was formally dissolved and absorbed into The Valerius Group. The ancestral mansion had been thoroughly renovated, stripped of its gaudy gold leaf and reimagined into a sleek, secure private sanctuary for Althea and her four children.
In the intensive care wing of the private clinic overlooking Lake Zurich, Don Roman Montecillo sat propped up in a motorized wheelchair. Half of his face was slightly drawn from the stroke, but his mind had returned, sharp and tormented by the absolute ruin of his legacy.
The private elevator chimed.
Althea walked into the clinical suite, dressed in an immaculate white trench coat. She carried no documents this time.
Don Roman turned his head slowly, his good eye fixing upon her with an agonizing mixture of defeat and bitter pride.
"You won, Althea," the old patriarch spoke, his speech slightly slurred but entirely intelligible. "You stripped my son of his pride. You threw Marcus into a federal penitentiary. You took my ships. You took my home. You have Eleanor’s heirs living under a name that isn't Montecillo."
"I protected my children from a den of vipers," Althea replied, standing beside the panoramic window overlooking the misty Swiss waters. "Your legacy wasn't an empire, Don Roman. It was a disease."
A cold, twisted smile appeared on Don Roman’s paralyzed lips.
"You think you are so clever, little girl," Don Roman rasped, his left hand gripping the armrest of his wheelchair. "You think you orchestrated this entire takeover because of twelve million dollars and a mother's vengeance?"
Althea narrowed her eyes slightly. "What are you talking about?"
Don Roman let out a dry, rattling chuckle that ended in a harsh cough. "Do you truly believe a Swiss private equity giant like *The Valerius Group* fell into the hands of an impoverished orphan girl purely by business acumen? Do you truly believe the late Lord Valerius chose you as his sole beneficiary because of your pretty face and your tragic story?"
Althea’s posture stiffened.
For the first time since she had walked into the cathedral, an unfamiliar chill ran down her spine.
"Lord Valerius was a mentor," she stated firmly. "He recognized my talent when I had nothing."
"Lord Valerius was my bitterest enemy for forty-five years!" Don Roman hissed, his good eye blazing with an ancient, dark fire. "And he didn't leave you that empire out of charity, Althea. He left it to you because of what I did to your real mother thirty years ago in Vienna."
Don Roman reached into the pocket of his cardigan, pulled out a tarnished silver locket with trembling fingers, and threw it onto the glass table between them.
May you like
The locket fell open. Inside was a faded black-and-white photograph of a young woman who looked identical to Althea, wearing the exact same emerald-cut signet ring that Don Roman had worn his entire life.
"You aren't just Christian's ex-wife, Althea," Don Roman whispered, his voice dropping into a terrifying, triumphant hiss. "Look at the crest inside that locket. Look at the date. And then ask yourself... whose blood really runs in those children's veins?"
