Chapter 8 - The Gambit
By Monday morning, the news hit the front page of the *Wall Street Journal’s* business section.
*CROSS HOLDINGS ANNOUNCES RADICAL RESTRUCTURING: WATERFRONT TERMINAL ASSETS TRANSFERRED TO MORETTI MARITIME GROUP.*
Adrian’s father had officially resigned as managing trustee. Adrian had been stripped of his executive vice-president title and assigned to an administrative desk in Albany, effectively ending his political and social aspirations in Manhattan.
At 3:00 PM, Evelyn’s firm received a formal, binding contract from the Moretti Group: a five-year master services agreement designating Vale Design & Production as the exclusive event management firm for all properties owned by Moretti Maritime, worth an estimated 4.2 million dollars.
Evelyn sat at her desk, looking at the contract.
Megan walked in, holding a courier envelope. “This just arrived. Hand-delivered.”
Inside was a single handwritten note on cream paper, accompanied by a heavy brass key.
*The key to the penthouse is yours. The contract is yours. Not because you were with me this weekend, but because your designs for the waterfront terminal were flawless. I told you I notice competence.*
*— L.*
She felt a slow, triumphant smile spread across her face.
He hadn't made her a kept woman. He had made her an untouchable partner.
The intercom buzzed.
“Evelyn,” Megan said, her voice shaking slightly. “Adrian is downstairs on the street. He’s... he’s not trying to come up. He’s just standing there, looking at the windows. He looks insane.”
Evelyn stood up. She walked to the large bay window overlooking Greene Street.
Adrian was standing on the opposite sidewalk in a crumpled trench coat, staring up at her office. Even from the third floor, she could see the hollow, broken despair in his posture. He looked like an apparition from an ancient, irrelevant life.
She watched him for three seconds.
May you like
Then, she pulled the sheer linen curtains shut, severing the view completely.
***
