Chapter 12 - The Inheritance of Shadows
-12-
The private library of the Rossi estate was quiet, save for the crackling of the logs in the stone fireplace and the soft ticking of an antique grandfather clock in the corner. It was midnight, two days after the Winter Gala. The house was asleep, but I sat at the heavy mahogany desk by the window, reviewing the quarterly budget reports for the Rossi-Vance Philanthropic Trust, my pen moving smoothly across the paper.
The heavy oak door creaked open.
Nico walked in, carrying two cups of steaming chamomile tea. He had taken off his suit jacket, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, looking more like a scholar than a corporate titan.
“You’re working late,” Nico noted gently, setting a cup of tea down beside my notepad.
“I’m just finalizing the grant allocations for the women’s healthcare clinics in Brooklyn,” I replied, looking up with a tired but satisfied smile. “If we approve these numbers tonight, we can break ground on three new facilities by next month.”
Nico pulled up a leather armchair, sitting down directly across from me, blowing softly over the surface of his tea. “You never stop, do you? You’ve built an entire philanthropic empire in less than a month, and you still treat every spreadsheet like a battle plan.”
“When you spend years watching your family struggle to pay medical bills while people like Valentina and Liam throw champagne parties that cost more than a house, you learn not to take a single day for granted,” I said quietly, looking down into my teacup.
Nico reached across the desk, covering my hand with his warm palm. “You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore, Luna. You survived the fire. Now you get to enjoy the warmth.”
Before I could answer, a sharp, urgent buzz echoed from the intercom on the mahogany desk—the secure perimeter alert connected to the estate’s front gates.
Nico frowned, dropping my hand and pressing the intercom button. “James? Report.”
The butler’s voice crackled through the speaker, sounding unusually tense. “Mr. Rossi, apologies for the late interruption. There is a visitor at the gate. Refusing to leave. She claims... she claims she has information regarding the true nature of the Rossi family trust that Miss Luna has a right to know.”
Nico and I exchanged a sharp, questioning glance.
May you like
“Who is it, James?” Nico demanded, his voice turning cold.
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before James replied with visible reluctance: “It’s Mrs. Valentina Rossi, sir. And she’s brought legal paperwork.”
