Chapter 8 - The Foundation Board Meeting
The mahogany doors of the Manhattan foundation boardroom loomed before me like the gates of an ancient fortress. Inside, Alessandro Moretti presided over the quarterly audit committee, his gray suit jacket unbuttoned just enough to project casual authority. The members seated around the long oval table nodded deferentially at his every word, completely unaware of the poison he had slipped into my glass weeks ago, or the financial rot he had systematically introduced into our charitable accounts. I adjusted the lapel of my black suit, feeling the heavy gold of the dark ring on my left hand press against my palm as I pushed the heavy doors open.
He looked up, expecting one of his sycophantic vice presidents, and his smile faltered for a fraction of a second when he saw me standing in the threshold.
"Dominic," Alessandro said smoothly, recovering his poise with practiced ease. "I wasn't aware you cared for the mundane details of our philanthropic accounting. We were just reviewing the regional grant allocations."
"I thought it was time I took a more active interest in where our funds are traveling, cousin," I replied, my voice carrying clearly across the silent room. I stepped forward, sliding a thick manila envelope across the polished wood directly toward him.
Alessandro didn't touch it. He kept his hands resting neatly on the table, his fingers lingering uncomfortably close to a heavy silver letter opener that looked far too similar to the knife resting on the dining table at the gala. "We have a strict protocol for auditing inquiries, Dominic. You know that. There's no need to disrupt the board."
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"This isn't a routine inquiry," I said, signaling my security detail to lock the doors from the inside. "This is an accounting of every shell company you've operated under the foundation's tax-exempt umbrella for the past three years. And attached to it is a forensic laboratory report detailing the exact chemical composition of the synthetic paralytic you attempted to administer to me."
Murmurs erupted around the table. Board members shifted anxiously in their leather chairs, looking between Alessandro and me with sudden alarm. Alessandro's polished facade finally cracked, his jaw tightening into a hard, venomous line as he realized the trap had snapped shut.
