The study was sanctuary and slaughterhouse alike. Heavy mahogany panels absorbed the ambient hum of Boston Harbor outside, while the fireplace cast long, restless amber tongues across leather-bound law books and untraceable shell-company deeds. Perched atop the dark wood of the desk, three-year-old Mia clutched a heavy silver letter opener like a magic wand, her thumb resting on Lorenzo’s heavy gold signet ring as if testing its weight.

At the head of the table sat Arthur Sterling—no relation to Marcus, but a lifelong ally of Vivien’s family—clearing his throat to address the council.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are here to ratify the emergency trusteeship of the Duca estate following the sudden disappearance of Miss Vivien Vance," Arthur announced, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses. "As her designated legal proxy, I move that we freeze all Duca shipping assets pending a federal mental evaluation of Mr. Lorenzo Duca."

The heavy oak double doors of the boardroom didn't just open—they blew inward, splintering their brass hinges against the wood paneling with a thunderous crash.

Silence fell over the room instantly.

Lorenzo Duca walked into the boardroom alone, his long black coat trailing behind him like the wings of a predatory bird. Behind him in the doorway stood Rocco and Marcus, their hands resting inside their jackets.

Arthur stood up, his face flushing crimson with aristocratic outrage. "Mr. Duca! You cannot barge into a private board meeting! This is an illegal trespassing of—"

Lorenzo didn't let him finish. He walked directly to the head of the table, pulled a thick manila envelope from his coat pocket, and slammed it down onto the polished mahogany surface right in front of Arthur’s coffee cup.

"Read page four, Arthur," Lorenzo said softly, pulling out a chair and sitting down uninvited at the head of the table.

Arthur trembling hand reached out, flipped open the folder, and scanned the top document. It was a complete financial audit detailing every single bribe, offshore kickback, and shell-company transfer funneled through the Cultural Society over the past ten years—signed, notarized, and confessed to by Vivien’s brother, Victor.