Chapter 12 - THE EX-WIFE WHO JOINED THE BOARD
Six months after divorcing Vincent Moretti, I voted against him in his first board election.
He thanked me afterward.
That was when I knew something had genuinely changed.
The independent directors nominated Vincent for interim CEO.
He had spent months cooperating with investigators, cleaning the company structure, selling questionable subsidiaries, and creating controls he should have built years earlier.
Still, I voted no.
Not because I hated him.
Because his plan wasn't finished.
After the meeting, he found me near the elevators.
“You voted against me.”
“Yes.”
His mouth twitched.
“Would you like to explain?”
“Your compliance committee still reports to the CEO.”
“It should report to the board.”
“Yes.”
“Your employee whistleblower protections are weak.”
“I'll fix them.”
“And your proposed CFO is one of Richard's old friends.”
“He's qualified.”
“He's seventy-one and calls female analysts ‘girls.’”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“I'll find someone else.”
I stared.
“No argument?”
“You were right three times.”
“That must be painful.”
“Excruciating.”
I smiled.
He smiled back.
Then the elevator arrived.
He did not ask me to dinner.
That mattered too.
Over the next year, Moretti Holdings changed.
Not perfectly.
Not magically.
But measurably.
The company sold businesses tied to Marco's hidden network.
Employees received independent reporting channels.
Sophia refused to remain Vincent's secretary.
Instead, she became head of financial integrity.
Her first action was demanding her own office and a salary correction.
I approved both.
She used part of the Russo trust to create a foundation supporting families affected by workplace corruption and financial coercion.
She kept the rest in trust while deciding what she wanted.
Richard cooperated in the Russo investigation.
He faced civil consequences and a federal inquiry.
His lawyers hated that he refused to minimize his role.
He said he had minimized it for twenty-four years already.
As for my father, I stopped trying to turn him back into a hero.
He had done something cowardly.
Then spent years trying to repair the damage.
Both things were true.
Growing up, apparently, included allowing the dead to be complicated.
Vincent never called unless it concerned company business.
He never appeared unexpectedly at my house.
Never sent jewelry.
Never used Richard to speak for him.
On my birthday, I received a card.
No flowers.
No gift.
Just:
I hope thirty-four is peaceful.
—Vincent
I kept it.
I told nobody.
Then one Thursday evening, exactly one year after the divorce, we stayed late after a board meeting.
Everyone else left.
Vincent stood at the window.
“Do you remember your message?”
I laughed.
“Five hundred employees do.”
“Seven hundred now.”
“Oh, good. The humiliation has scaled.”
He smiled.
Then became serious.
“That message saved the company.”
“No.”
“It accelerated Marco's plan. Made him move too fast.”
“That was accidental.”
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“But you stopped being quiet.”
I held his gaze.
“So did everyone else.”
He nodded.
Then asked a question he had apparently learned to ask.
“Would it be inappropriate if I asked you to have coffee with me sometime?”
I stared at him.
“Coffee?”
“Public place.”
“No secret investigation.”
“No secretary.”
He winced.
“Fair.”
I should have said no.
Instead I said:
“One coffee.”
His face changed.
Not triumph.
Hope.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from Sophia.
CHECK YOUR EMAIL. NOW.
I opened it.
The subject line read:
MARCO MORETTI - RECOVERED FILE.
Investigators had decrypted the hard drive Marco stole before the fire.
Inside was a private recording.
Three years old.
Recorded the week before my wedding.
May you like
Marco's voice spoke to Vincent.
And what he said made me realize Marco had begun trying to destroy our marriage before it even started.
