Chapter 8 - The Empire Restructured
By noon, the estate was bustling with controlled chaos.
The federal indictments against Julian Vale and his co-conspirators had dropped in the morning papers, making front-page news across the city. Moretti Enterprises Cleans House: Former Executive Charged in Corporate Conspiracy.
Serena Vale was reportedly cooperating with federal prosecutors in exchange for a reduced sentence, her socialite dreams reduced to a jail cell and a disgraced name.
Down in the massive industrial kitchen of the North Salem estate, the boys were happily covered in maple syrup, throwing pieces of bacon to two massive, tail-wagging golden retrievers who looked like they had lived there their entire lives.
Gabriel and I sat at the marble island, reviewing a stack of legal documents with Marcus Vance—my younger brother Mateo, who had miraculously managed to rehabilitate his reputation overnight by turning over all of Julian’s encrypted communications to Gabriel’s legal team in exchange for a junior partnership in a subsidiary logistics firm.
“Everything is signed, sealed, and legally bulletproof,” Mateo said nervously, sliding the leather-bound portfolio across the counter to Gabriel. “The trust is established, the boys’ education funds are secured, and Moretti Enterprises is officially clear of any regulatory oversight.”
Gabriel glanced over the first page, his signature slashing across the bottom line with heavy, confident strokes.
“Good work, Mateo,” Gabriel said flatly. “Now, pack your bags and move to our Tokyo office. Your flight leaves at six o'clock.”
Mateo’s jaw dropped. “Tokyo? But Mr. Cross—Gabriel! I thought we were partners!”
“You are partners in the logistics firm,” Gabriel replied without looking up. “Which happens to be headquartered in Japan. Consider it an international expansion of your career opportunities.”
Mateo opened his mouth to argue, but one look at Gabriel’s cold, unyielding gray-green eyes made him swallow his words. He grabbed his briefcase and hurried out the kitchen door without another syllable.
I couldn't help laughing, shaking my head as I sipped my coffee. “You didn't have to exile him to Tokyo, Gabriel.”
“He’s your brother, and I spared him a prison cell,” Gabriel said reasonably, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me against his side. “That’s the family discount. Anyone else who tried to pull what he did would be swimming with the concrete shoes in the Hudson.”
Just then, the double doors of the kitchen swung open, and Julian, Marcus, and Leo came running over, covered in flour and dog hair.
“Mom! Dad! Max and Buster dug a huge hole in the rose garden!” Julian announced proudly.
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Gabriel looked down at our three sons, then over at me. The man who had once ruled the Manhattan underworld with an iron fist, who had stared down federal agents and ruthless rivals without blinking, looked entirely at peace.
“Well,” Gabriel smiled, standing up and dusting flour off his trousers. “Looks like we have some landscaping to fix.”
