Chapter 3 - The Counter-Strike
By 7:00 AM the next morning, Helena was no longer the desperate, cornered lawyer working out of a kitchen table.
She wore a charcoal-gray tailored pantsuit she had saved for years for high-stakes court appearances, her hair styled in a sleek, professional twist. When the sleek black town car dropped her off at Moretti Enterprises, security guards bowed their heads as she walked through the polished marble lobby.
She walked straight into Adriano’s office without waiting for an announcement.
Adriano was standing by the window holding a cup of espresso. He turned as the door clicked shut, his dark eyes sweeping over her with swift, approving recognition.
“You sound different on the phone last night,” Adriano noted, setting his cup down. “What happened?”
Without a word, Helena tossed a legal document onto his desk.
Adriano picked it up, his eyes scanning the first page. A dark, dangerous crease formed between his brows. “An emergency custody petition filed by David Vance. Grounded on allegations of moral turpitude and association with organized crime.” He looked up at her, his expression darkening like a storm over the ocean. “He’s using you to get to me, or using me to destroy you.”
“Both,” Helena said, her voice ice-cold. “His family thinks they can crush me before I even step foot in this building. They think I have no defense.”
“And what do you propose?” Adriano asked, leaning against the desk, watching her with intense curiosity.
“We don't play defense,” Helena said, a fierce fire igniting in her eyes. “We audit every single real estate holding, shell corporation, and construction loan tied to the Vance family trust over the last ten years. My ex-husband thinks he’s clean, but I know how his father laundered kickbacks through municipal zoning contracts in Brooklyn. I have the preliminary bank routing numbers memorized from an old tax audit he accidentally left on our dining room table four years ago.”
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Adriano stared at her for three seconds. Then, slowly, a wide, predatory grin spread across his face—the look of a man who loved nothing more than a well-executed checkmate.
“My legal team is at your complete disposal,” Adriano said softly. “Destroy them.”
