The Mafia Boss Fired the Secretary Everyone Mocked as Ugly, Then the Entire Royal Gala Rose When She Walked Through the Doors
“I don’t know yet.”
Brooke stepped forward.
“But you’re willing to spread suspicion two days before the biggest event of his career.”
Elena looked back at Dante.
“I came to him privately.”
“And now you’re finished,” Brooke said.
Dante stood.
“Brooke, leave.”
Her face changed.
“Dante—”
“Now.”
She stared at him, then picked up her purse.
Before passing Elena, she paused.
“The world he’s entering isn’t an office basement, Elena. People notice things.”
Elena met her gaze.
“So do accountants.”
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Brooke walked out.
The doors closed.
Dante exhaled.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then he opened the folder.
Elena watched him skim the first page.
His expression hardened.
“Where did you get this?”
“Public disclosures, vendor records, internal payment schedules, and documents your finance department gave me.”
“You went through private finance records without authorization.”
“I have executive clearance.”
“For scheduling and operational reviews.”
“You gave me full administrative access three years ago.”
“That doesn’t mean you investigate whatever interests you.”
“It interested me because your company appears in the transaction chain.”
Dante closed the folder.
“You should have brought this to me before doing anything else.”
“I am bringing it to you.”
“After building an entire investigation.”
“Because bringing you a suspicion without evidence would have been irresponsible.”
His voice sharpened.
“You don’t decide what risks I take.”
Elena stared at him.
There it was.
The sentence beneath so many others.
Not concern.
Control.
Dante walked toward the window.
“This weekend matters.”
“I know.”
“No, Elena. You understand the schedule. You don’t understand what happens if Whitmore walks away.”
She nearly laughed.
If only he knew.
Instead, she said, “Then you should want to know whether someone is stealing money from the foundation hosting your celebration.”
“The Haversham Foundation is not Whitmore Civic Trust.”
“They share two board members.”
Dante turned.
“Enough.”
Elena stopped.
He looked exhausted.
Angry.
Cornered.
And when powerful men felt cornered, they often attacked the closest person who would not attack back.
“I need someone in that office who understands what the next stage requires,” he said.
Elena’s heartbeat slowed.
She knew before he continued.
“Brooke believes—”
Elena gave a small, disbelieving smile.
“Brooke believes I’m ugly.”
Dante’s expression changed.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“This is not about your face.”
“Then tell me what it is about.”
Dante hesitated.
That hesitation answered everything.
Elena nodded once.
“I see.”
“Elena.”
“No. I really do.”
He crossed toward her.
“The public side of this company is changing.”
“And I apparently don’t photograph well enough for legitimacy.”
“Don’t twist my words.”
“You haven’t given me any to twist.”
His patience broke.
“Fine. The board wants someone more appropriate for external representation.”
Elena looked at him for a long moment.
Then she removed her employee badge.
Dante frowned.
“What are you doing?”
“Making this easier.”
“I haven’t decided—”
“Yes, you have.”
She placed the badge beside the folder.
The small plastic rectangle landed with almost no sound.
Three years reduced to two inches of laminated identification.
Dante looked at it.
“I’ll give you twelve months’ salary.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“I don’t need it.”
“You’re being emotional.”
For the first time that night, real anger entered her face.
“No, Dante. I’m finally being practical.”
He stiffened.
She took her coat from the chair.
“You want a secretary whose appearance makes your investors comfortable. Brooke wants me gone. Your board wants someone decorative enough to stand beside your new life.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you chose.”
She headed toward the door.
“Elena.”
Her hand stopped on the brass handle.
Dante lowered his voice.
“What are you going to do?”
She looked back.
“Go somewhere I belong.”
Then she left.
The following forty-eight hours were the most chaotic Dante’s office had experienced in three years.
No one knew the access code to the legal archive.
Two department heads arrived for meetings Elena had apparently canceled weeks earlier.
Dante’s driver went to the wrong airport terminal.
An investor from Texas screamed at the replacement assistant for serving him coffee with milk.
At four Friday afternoon, Dante discovered he had been scheduled for two dinners at the same time.
At six, he discovered Elena had prevented that exact conflict for twenty-nine consecutive months.
By Saturday morning, he was furious with everyone.
Mostly himself.
Brooke, however, seemed delighted.
“You’ll forget her,” she said while fastening a cuff link at Dante’s penthouse.
Dante stared at himself in the mirror.
“No, I won’t.”
Brooke’s hand paused.
He continued before she could answer.
“She found six million dollars missing.”
“And probably misunderstood the paperwork.”
“Elena doesn’t misunderstand paperwork.”
Brooke smiled thinly.
“Then why did you fire her?”
Dante looked at her reflection.
May you like
He had been asking himself that question since Thursday night.
At seven-thirty, their car pulled beneath the illuminated entrance of the Grand Whitmore Hotel on Fifth Avenue.
