Chương 9 - THE COLLAPSE OF MERIDIAN HOLDINGS
By Friday evening, the financial district of London and the municipal courts of Rome were in absolute chaos.
Working in absolute tandem, Dominic’s international intelligence network and my airtight legal injunction hit Meridian Holdings with a triple-pronged federal freeze before their European board members even finished their morning espresso.
In my penthouse office at the Russo Tower, the digital monitors flickered with live financial feeds showing Meridian’s stock plunging forty-five percent in a single trading session.
“They’re completely wiped out,” Dominic said, standing behind my chair with his hands resting lightly on my shoulders, looking down at the cascading red numbers on the screen. “Every offshore account they used to funnel money through the Vatican dispute has been seized under international anti-fraud statutes.”
“They made a fatal mistake,” I said, leaning back into the warm comfort of his touch, resting my head against his arm. “They thought money and political intimidation were enough to win a war. They forgot that the people who actually read the fine print always hold the final veto.”
The private elevator chimed down the hall, and heavy footsteps echoed across the marble floor. A moment later, Arthur Vance—still serving as our reluctant corporate liaison—burst into the office holding a secure tablet, looking as though he had seen a ghost.
“Mr. Russo… Dr. Miller,” Vance panted, trying to catch his breath. “You need to see this. The primary investor behind Meridian Holdings just surfaced in Geneva. It’s… it’s Victoria.”
The room went dead silent.
Dominic slowly straightened up, his dark eyes turning into chips of black ice. The casual warmth that had filled the room vanished in a fraction of a second, replaced by the chilling aura of a man whose patience had finally run out.
“Victoria?” Dominic repeated, his voice dangerously low. “I left her with a multi-million-dollar Park Avenue settlement and strict instructions to stay out of my business.”
“She didn’t stay out, sir,” Vance stammered, handing over the tablet. “She partnered with a syndicate of disrputive European shipping heirs who wanted to break your monopoly in the Mediterranean. She thought if she could acquire the Trieste port through Meridian Holdings, she could force you to hand over half your empire in a forced corporate restructuring.”
I looked at the corporate filings displayed on the tablet. Sure enough, buried beneath three layers of dummy corporations in Liechtenstein was Victoria’s signature, executed under her maiden name.
I let out a quiet sigh, picked up my fountain pen, and spun my chair around to face Dominic.
“Well, Mr. Russo,” I said calmly, a faint, confident smile touching my lips. “It looks like your ex-wife still doesn't understand the difference between high society and high-level jurisprudence.”
Dominic looked down at me, the hard, lethal lines of his face softening into an expression of fierce, absolute devotion. He reached down, took my hand, and kissed the back of my fingers right over my diamond fountain-pen ring.
“What do you suggest we do with her, Counselor?” Dominic asked softly.
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“We don’t need to shout, Dominic,” I replied, standing up and smoothing the lapels of my blazer. “We just need to file the final motion with the Swiss federal prosecutor’s office. By Monday morning, Victoria won't just be out of the shipping business—she’ll be facing criminal extradition for corporate identity theft and international fraud.”
Dominic smiled—a wide, predatory, utterly satisfied grin. “Call the Swiss prosecutor, Dr. Miller. Let’s put an end to her little performance.”
