Chapter 8 - MARCELLO’S PRIVATE RETURN
Dad had been physically capable of returning publicly two months before the gala.
He chose not to.
That made me angry when I learned it.
“You let everyone think you were half-dead.”
“I let everyone say what they wanted.”
“Why?”
“Because Raymond talks too much when he feels safe.”
That answer sounded like manipulation.
It was.
Dad had noticed unusual requests moving through joint-company counsel.
Questions about:
My voting shares.
The temporary executive-continuity plan.
What happened if Marcello became permanently incapacitated.
Whether a spouse could exercise proxy rights over inherited interests.
None of those questions were illegal.
Together, they were interesting.
Dad asked his attorneys to monitor.
No hacking.
No bribery.
No secret wiretaps.
Just review documents that touched Fiorentino entities and requests addressed to our counsel.
Then Raymond approached our general counsel with a draft acknowledgment.
It stated that Fiorentino Holdings had:
“No objection in principle to Camilla Fiorentino-Kane placing personally owned interests into a marital governance vehicle.”
General counsel refused.
Raymond said:
“Marcello would understand.”
The lawyer answered:
“Marcello is alive. Ask him.”
Raymond never did.
That was when Dad decided to stay quiet.
He wanted to know whether the Kane plan stopped without perceived resistance.
It did not.
I disliked being part of his test without knowing.
He apologized.
Not enough.
Then explained why he was physically upstairs during the gala.
It was supposed to be his first controlled public return.
Small.
After dinner.
He planned to enter only for the closing foundation announcement.
Raymond had not been told.
Travis had not.
I knew only forty minutes before the slap.
Dad gave me the small phone.
“One number.”
“Why?”
“If you need me.”
“I have a normal phone.”
“This one is less dramatic.”
It was, in fact, much more dramatic.
I rolled my eyes.
May you like
Then put it in my clutch.
I did not expect to use it.
