Bravio’s gaze darted from the crimson dossier to Luzia’s unreadable face, then to Severin’s unnervingly placid expression. “This is… this is a joke, right?” His voice, usually a booming instrument of executive bravado, cracked like old ice. “Luzia, you can’t even operate a toaster without setting off the fire alarm. What’s this Vencallo banner nonsense? And a *subpoena*? Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not a lawyer!”
Cettia, still clinging to Bravio’s arm, whimpered. “She’s not! She’s just… trying to be dramatic. She always does this, Bravio, remember the time she dyed her hair that dreadful cerulean shade just to match her new oven mitts?” Cettia fluttered her eyelashes, fishing for the old, apologetic duck of Luzia’s chin, but met only flat, immovable granite.
Luzia’s smile narrowed, exposing the tips of her teeth. “A simple oversight, darling. My family’s house, the Vencallo Conglomerate, has a long-standing tradition of backing innovative start-ups. Galvanix Innovations was, at one point, one of them. And as for my legal qualifications, Bravio, you’d be surprised what bar exams one can crush with sufficient motivation and an unlimited retainers pool.” She tapped the dossier with an enameled nail. “The subpoena is quite legitimate. Your immediate resignation, and the transfer of all company assets to Vencallo ownership, is non-negotiable.”
“Assets?” Bravio scoffed, a desperate, high-pitched sound. “This is *my* company! *My* patents! *My* vision! You think you can just waltz in here and take it with some… some baking-themed legal threats? I built this from nothing!” He gestured wildly around the opulent room, as if to encompass his entire, self-made empire.
“Actually,” Severin rumbled from his chair, his voice a low, dangerous purr that cut through Bravio’s bluster, “your initial seed funding came from a Vencallo-controlled subsidiary, Galdoni Tech Ventures, which was then, as now, overseen by my office. The terms, quite explicitly, stipulated that any major acquisition or hostile takeover attempt of Galvanix would revert controlling shares to the original investment entity. A contingency, Bravio, for exactly this kind of… *enthusiasm*.” He steepled his fingers, a silent, menacing warning.
Bravio went the shade of sour milk. The mystery hostile bidder he had bragged about skinning alive in the financial press was his ex-wife, and his uncle held her stirrup.
Cettia’s fingers slipped from Bravio’s sleeve, her chin lolling back toward the ceiling. “Oh, my ankle!” she squeaked, pitch wavering. “I felt a *twinge*! The micro-fracture! I must have reinjured it when I… I stumbled earlier! Bravio, I’m swooning!”
She crumpled to the plush carpet with a theatrical moan, her crutches clattering uselessly beside her. The sound was surprisingly loud in the sudden silence. “The stress! The pressure of this hostile takeover! It’s exacerbated my condition! I think… I think the vote needs to be postponed! Legal precedent, Bravio, for medical incapacitation of a key witness!” She squeezed her eyes shut, a perfect picture of delicate suffering.
Bravio, momentarily forgetting his own predicament, dropped to his knees beside her. “Cettia! Are you alright? Someone call a medic! This is outrageous! She’s clearly in distress! This entire proceeding is invalid!”
Luzia watched without shifting an inch. The former Luzia would have offered warm compresses and lavender scones; now she merely checked her watch. Severin lifted two fingers from the armrest, and the assembly froze.
“Tower triage is already summoned,” Severin said, his baritone slicing through the panic. “However, this chamber is not an infirmary. All non-essential personnel vacate immediately. The proxy tally is suspended, not vacated. Counsel, pack your briefs. Directors, await a secure summons in two hours. Bravio, escort your patient to the medical floor. Now.”
His eyes, dark and fathomless, swept over the room. No one dared meet them for long. People scrambled, murmuring apologies, gathering papers, and practically tripping over themselves to escape the intimidating aura emanating from Severin. Within two minutes, the gallery emptied, leaving only Severin, Luzia, and Cettia—who miraculously rallied enough leg strength to hobble out draped over Bravio’s shoulder, leaving both carbon-fiber crutches behind on the mahogany.
Luzia let out a slow breath, the silence of the room a stark contrast to the preceding chaos. “That was… efficient,” she mused, turning to Severin. “You didn’t even raise your voice.”
Severin leaned back, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “Reputation, Luzia, is a powerful weapon. Though your new reputation, I imagine, will soon eclipse mine. Now,” he pushed a stack of thick, leather-bound ledgers across the table towards her. “Bravio’s financial reports. Delayed, of course, by ‘technical difficulties.’ I had my analysts re-route them directly to my private server. Let’s see what excuses he’s been cooking up.”
Luzia pulled the first ledger towards her, the scent of old paper and new money filling her nostrils. She flipped through the pages, her brow furrowing. Severin poured two cups of rich, dark coffee from a gleaming carafe. As he reached to pass one to her, his sleeve brushed against the edge of the table. The ceramic cup wobbled, then tipped, sending a dark, steaming stream cascading across the polished surface, narrowly missing the open ledger.
“Clumsy of me,” Severin murmured, snapping open a linen napkin. His knuckles brushed hers over the puddle. Luzia pulled her hand back as heat climbed into her throat; Severin did not flinch, his gray gaze pinned to hers a beat too long before mopping the varnish.
She cleared her throat, forcing her attention back to the water-stained page. “No harm done.” She scanned the columns of numbers, her legal mind quickly sifting through complex transactions. Bravio’s incompetence was evident in the chaotic organization, but underneath it, she sensed a deliberate obfuscation. Lines of credit, asset allocations, shell corporations… it was a typical Galdoni mess, only worse. She paused, her gaze snagging on a series of recurring, unusually large disbursements labeled ‘Community Outreach Initiatives.’
“Wait,” Luzia said, tapping the folio. “These aren't standard philanthropic grants. The routing numbers all terminate in the Floris Family Benevolent Fund. He transferred four million straight into Cettia’s equestrian charity across sixty days. Embezzlement, conversion, and breach of loyalty.” A feral thrill settled in her ribs. The half-baked instinct to bake him sympathy muffins shriveled on the vine.
The heavy double doors swung wide again. A lean process server in an ink-black suit strode straight to the head of the table, sidestepping Severin without a glance, and slapped a stamped filing before Luzia.
“Luzia Vencallo?” he stated, his voice devoid of inflection. “You have been served. Emergency injunction, filed by one Bravio Galdoni. On the grounds of mental instability and unfitness to practice law, or to conduct any corporate transactions.”