Chapter 6 - The SummitThree weeks after the wedding that never happened, the annual maritime trade summit was held at the waterfront convention center downtown. It was the ultimate social and political battleground where shipping magnates, syndicate leaders, and politicians gathered to carve up territories and negotiate multi-million-dollar trade routes.
When Roman and I walked through the grand glass doors of the ballroom, the collective chatter of hundreds of powerful guests instantly dropped to a murmur.
I wore a sharp, tailored midnight-blue pantsuit designed with architectural precision—no lace, no tulle, no fragile accessories. Just clean lines and absolute confidence. On my arm, Roman walked with the calm, relaxed posture of a king who knew his kingdom was entirely secure.
Across the room, standing near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the harbor, were my father and Vittorio Valtieri. They looked like two generals who had just realized their flank had been completely surrounded.
Alaric Lisandra excused himself from Vittorio’s company and walked directly toward us, his silver hair neatly combed, his expression unreadable.
"Elena," my father said, stopping a few feet away. His gray eyes flicked from my tailored suit to Roman’s calm demeanor. "You’ve made quite a name for yourself in the financial papers this week."
"I learned from the best, Father," I replied evenly, refusing to shrink back or look down as I had for my entire life. "Though I prefer building empires rather than trading people to maintain them."
Alaric studied me for a long, silent moment—not with anger, but with a strange, grudging flicker of professional respect. He finally looked at Roman. "You’ve created an expensive distraction, Vescari."
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"It’s not a distraction, Alaric," Roman replied smoothly, resting his hand lightly at the small of my back without gripping it, giving me total freedom of movement. "It’s a hostile takeover of the status quo. And from now on, you’ll deal with both of us."
My father gave a slow, measured nod, acknowledging checkmate. He turned and walked away into the crowd, leaving us standing together in the center of a room full of people who finally understood that I was no longer a piece on their board.
