Chapter 2
Alessia read Garrett’s filing with her attorney, Naomi Price.
Naomi was fifty-eight, patient, unimpressed by the Carbone name, and one of the few people Alessia trusted to tell her when she was wrong.
“You gave him ammunition,” Naomi said.
“I know.”
“You punched him after he was no longer physically attacking Miriam.”
“I know.”
“The kick after he charged you is easier to defend.”
“I know.”
Naomi closed one section.
“Good. Then we don’t waste time pretending.”
The emergency judge issued a limited temporary no-contact order between Alessia and Garrett until a hearing.
Nothing prevented Alessia from seeing her mother.
Nothing gave Garrett control of Carbone property.
But the business language bothered Naomi.
“He’s mixing marital allegations with corporate governance.”
“Can he?”
“He can ask for anything. That doesn’t mean he gets it.”
“Why ask?”
Naomi looked at the foundation section again.
Garrett claimed that Alessia’s “unpredictable violent conduct” created operational risk because several organizations depended upon her signature authority.
He proposed temporary neutral management.
Then, buried deeper:
Garrett would remain available to assist management because of his recent administrative role.
Alessia looked up.
“He wants access.”
“Possibly.”
“To what?”
“That’s a better question.”
Miriam provided the beginning of an answer from her hospital room.
Her wrist was wrapped.
Her hip was badly bruised.
She looked more irritated by the attention than injured by the fall.
“Garrett and I argued last week.”
Alessia stared at her.
“You never told me.”
“I didn’t want to interfere in your marriage.”
“What did you argue about?”
Miriam looked toward the window.
“The foundation.”
Alessia sat.
The Carbone Relief Foundation paid medical bills for longtime employees, supported families after workplace deaths, funded local food programs, and distributed education grants.
Miriam had managed its books long before Garrett married into the family.
“What happened?”
“Several gala vendors were being paid more than their contracts allowed.”
“How many?”
“Four that I found.”
“Why didn’t you bring it to me?”
“I asked Garrett first.”
Alessia felt something turn cold inside her.
“Why Garrett?”
“Because he approved the event expenses.”
Garrett had taken over much of the gala planning six months earlier.
He said Alessia was too busy managing other family interests.
She had been relieved.
Miriam continued.
“He told me the contracts had changed.”
“Had they?”
“I couldn’t find amendments.”
“What did he say when you asked?”
“That I was becoming confused.”
Miriam’s mouth tightened.
“Then he asked whether I was still comfortable handling accounts at my age.”
Alessia stared at her mother.
Miriam was sixty-four.
She had never missed an audit deadline in her life.
“What did you say?”
“That I was comfortable enough to recognize four bad invoices.”
Despite everything, Alessia almost smiled.
Then Miriam became serious again.
“He told me to stop looking.”
“And you did?”
“No.”
That explained Garrett’s anger toward Miriam.
Perhaps even Evelyn’s contempt.
But it did not explain the legal filing prepared with unusual attention to the foundation only hours after the gala.
May you like
Alessia turned toward Naomi.
“Audit everything.”
