Chapter 9 - The Uncle's Game
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The drawing room felt entirely too small as Rafe stepped inside. Bruno Santoro stood by the fireplace, wearing an impeccable navy suit, holding a silver pocket watch. He looked the picture of a grieving, concerned uncle.
“Rafe,” Bruno sighed dramatically, putting the watch away. “Thank God you are safe. When I heard the news about the harbor, my blood ran cold.”
“I’m sure it did, Uncle,” Rafe replied smoothly, keeping his hands casually in his pockets. “It was a devastating fire. We lost millions in inventory.”
“And lives could have been lost,” Bruno added, his voice dripping with faux concern. “The board is terrified, Rafe. They see a young man unable to protect his own assets. They are talking about a change in leadership.”
“Are they?” Rafe asked, stepping closer to the fireplace. “Or are you projecting your own desires onto the board, Bruno?”
Bruno’s smile tightened. The mask slipped just a fraction.
“I am trying to protect this family’s legacy,” Bruno warned, dropping his voice into a low rumble. “Your father built an empire. You are letting it burn to the ground because you are too obsessed with legitimacy. You refuse to get your hands dirty.”
“My hands are perfectly clean, Uncle,” Rafe countered, his dark eyes locking onto Bruno’s. “Which is exactly why I will be the one holding the gavel at the board meeting tomorrow.”
Bruno scoffed, adjusting his cuffs. “We will see. Oh, and before I leave, Teddy mentioned a small domestic issue. The new maid? The one who caused a scene at the gala? I believe she needs to be dismissed. She’s a liability.”
Rafe’s jaw clenched, but his expression remained a mask of stone.
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“The staff is my concern, Bruno. Not yours.”
“Everything in this house is my concern,” Bruno stated arrogantly, walking toward the door. “I’ll see you at the meeting, nephew. Prepare a concession speech.”
