Chapter 2
The next morning, Lucia brought in independent counsel.
Not the Ferraro family lawyer.
Not Dominic’s attorney.
Not anyone who had ever represented Celina.
Rebecca Sloan reviewed Rosa’s ownership records first.
The restaurant belonged to Rosa.
Completely.
Lucia did not own it.
Dominic did not own it.
The Ferraro family organizations did not own it.
That mattered.
Rosa’s late husband had helped her buy the property thirty-eight years earlier, but after his death, full title passed to Rosa.
She had survived recessions, health inspections, rising rents around the neighborhood, two kitchen fires, and every relative who suggested she retire.
The restaurant was hers.
Dominic did possess one limited authorization.
Two years earlier, after Rosa underwent cataract surgery, she signed a business power of attorney allowing him to approve routine vendor payments and renew certain operating contracts if she was temporarily unavailable.
Rebecca read it aloud.
“No borrowing.”
“No.”
“No mortgages.”
“No.”
“No transfer of real estate.”
“No.”
“No authority to delegate those powers to Celina.”
“No.”
“So the collateral resolution is false.”
“Almost certainly.”
Lucia looked at Rosa.
“Did Dominic know?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer hurt more than accusation would have.
Dominic arrived forty minutes later.
No bodyguards.
No attorney.
He looked sick.
“Mom.”
Rosa did not hug him.
That alone told Lucia how serious this was.
Dominic sat.
Rebecca asked:
“Did you authorize your wife to mortgage Rosa’s restaurant?”
“No.”
“Did you give her access to your business authorization documents?”
Dominic hesitated.
“Yes.”
Lucia’s jaw tightened.
“For what?”
“Party planning.”
Rebecca looked up.
“Party planning required your mother’s power of attorney?”
“No.”
“Then why did Celina have it?”
Dominic rubbed both hands over his face.
“She was handling vendor contracts. One company wanted proof I could sign for family hospitality entities. I sent her a folder with old authority documents.”
“You sent her Mom’s authorization?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
Lucia stared.
Dominic looked at Rosa.
“I never told her she could borrow against the restaurant.”
Rosa finally spoke.
“Did I tell you I was worried about her asking for my deed?”
Dominic became quiet.
Lucia noticed immediately.
“When?”
“A month ago,” Rosa said.
Dominic swallowed.
“She said she needed it for insurance.”
“And you believed her?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask?”
“No.”
Rosa nodded slowly.
“You told me I worry too much.”
Dominic looked ashamed.
He had not engineered the lien.
But he had made the scheme easier because questioning his wife felt less comfortable than dismissing his mother.
Rebecca continued through the loan package.
The lender was a private company called Beacon Crest Capital.
There was no traditional amortization.
No monthly payment schedule.
One maturity payment.
Nineteen days.
The attached appraisal had been ordered almost three months before Celina’s birthday.
Lucia looked up.
“The party wasn’t even finalized three months ago.”
Dominic frowned.
May you like
“No.”
Then why had Celina ordered a commercial appraisal of Rosa’s restaurant property before anyone knew what her birthday banquet would cost?
