Page 53 of The Heiress

This is the first time I’ve walked into a boardroom thinking aboutmyfuture. Not only my next headline, the next girl, orDaisy. Even though my new bride is definitely on my mind as I enter.

Fuck. I’m building a future. No histrionics, okay? No, I’m telling that to myself. It’svery importantI don’t blow this. I’ve gotta go in there pretending I already have an MBA from Harvard and know what the hell I’m doing. These people won’t know the difference, right?

The DeMonte department store's head offices downtown are located in one of the oldest skyscrapers. Therefore, it’s not the tallest, but it’s a historical building that features the nameDeMonteprominently on the marquee subtly lit up above the main entrance. The flagship department store is two blocks from here. I bet if I went over there right now, I’d see Daisy posing in summer wear. She’s one of their most prominent models, going back as far as advertising their toddler clothes on sale.

Old money oozes from the brickwork and tiled marble floors. Art chosen to make you feel like you should know the artist without a name on the plaque hangs on the walls. Quiet power, the kind that looks down its nose at you when you’re not looking atit,judges me from one of the security cameras perched in the corner by the elevators.

It smells like family shame in here. Ugh.

I swung by home to change before coming here. Last night at dinner, Marcello dropped his final ultimatum – if I succeed at this, then I might have a shot. I could tell he had little to no faith in me. At least he madesureto tell me it wasn’t “just” because I’m a woman. It’s my image, you see. Everyone might know who I am by name and face, but they know my mother’s. Have I mentioned Camilla Sheen is huge in Italy? Some scandal rag there once claimed she had the “best breasts for the summer” in 1997.

So, I must not look entirely like my usual self. Or my mother, for that matter. I had the pants for the occasion, but Daisy ordered a navy blouse and gray jacket from the department store to complete a businesswoman’s look. Before I left, she combed down my hair so it hangs straight past my ears and flirts with my shoulders. No eyeshadow today. A touch of lipstick and eyeliner. She agrees with me that I look my most professional with “less is more.” Probably because I’m showing up in tabloids wearingleather, chunky jewelry, and enough cleavage to make Mrs. DeMonte scream.

This is all. The armor of a woman who knows exactly what she’s walking into – and how she’s gonna win the weirdest battle of her life.

I’ve already got the girl, you know. Now I have to build afamilywith her.

Cristiano and Mr. Franco Antonetti are already seated at the long wooden conference table when I enter. Both in charcoal suits, sporting a signature expression of tolerance stretched thin.

“Ms. Sheen,” Franco greets me with a clipped Italian accent that is more noticeable than Cristiano’s. It’s a lovely reminder that I’m dealing with a more old-school dude who is used to things beinghis certain waybecause that’s how it’s been done around him for decades. Cristiano at least gets out of the house.

“Mr. Antonetti.” I greet the man who hasn’t received the update that I’m a DeMonte now. “Cristiano.”

He doesn’t return the greeting. All Cristiano says, probably on his father’s behalf, is, “Marcello informed us that you would be coming to speak of our lingering deal with DeMonte’s. Quite the contrast to what we expected when we hashed it out over the phone the other day.” He grumbles something in Italian to his father. The father and son raise their eyebrows in a silent language with no accent. “Seems a lot has changed in a few days. Why areyouhere?”

I place a leather folio on the table in front of me and meet his judgmental gaze. Right. This guy thought he was marryingmyDaisy. How did you used to look at her, huh? Did a mere picture, her image in a bathing suit by the front entrance of the flagship store, make you crazy? Too bad, bud.I’mthe one who is taking her to bed tonight. And every night after this. “To talk business, of course. On behalf of DeMonte’s.”

Cristiano leans back, arms crossed to lock in his irritation. “You married Daisy.”

“I did.”

“Without her family’s blessing.”

“If you choose to see it that way. At the moment, we as a family have an understanding.”

“Remember, family is everything,”Daisy had said while brushing lint off my brand-new jacket and ensuring all the tags were removed.“Keep bringing it back to you being an immutable part of the family. Be confident. You’re a gay woman who eloped with the girl everyone thought Cristiano would be marrying. You will have the absolute biggest balls in the room.”

“You expect us to pretend everything’s fine?” Cristiano grinds his teeth as he holds back from telling me how he feels. Come on, bro. I’m not saying I cantakeyou since you’re like twice my size and my idea of self-defense is going right for the eyes, but if he thinks I can’t deal with an angry dude getting in my face over a woman we both want… well, he doesn’t know me very well. That’s my Saturday special. “Do you think we can walk away from this event with any level of grace expected of us back home? The Italian papers are already reporting on it. It’s causing quite the stir considering you’re…” His eyes look me up and down. “You.”

“I expect you to look at the full picture,” I say. “You’re businessmen. Look at the numbers. Look at what we can do.” I chuckle. “By that, what Daisy and me can do…together.”

Cristiano opens his mouth, but Franco lifts a finger. “Let her finish.”

Nice. Somebody wants to clean this up and get the hell out of here. “I’m not asking to be coddled. What I’m asking for is to be acknowledged for what I bring to the table. I’ve built a brand. I’ve turned my name into social equity. Public opinion can shiftwith a single photo, post, or headline – and I know how to shape those. We’re not a liability. We’re anasset.”

Cristiano snorts. “Your idea of stability is an Instagram story?”

“No.” The confidence comes easily to me now. These men aren’t so different from some of the police officers I’ve dealt with after a hard night on the town. Or the disapproving lawyers who had to clean up a few of my more benign messes after I turned eighteen. “My idea of stability is keeping your company relevant. You think a deal between two international dynasties matters to the average consumer? It doesn’t. But a love story? A power couple that people want to follow and cheer on? That matters. Especially when one of them’s a known, bold face of their generation.”

“And what if the older generation isn’t interested in being bold?” Franco Antonetti asks.

“Then they’ll get left behind, like the countless generations before them. The people who are remembered well past death are those who cemented a legacy worth talking about. Those who tookchancesin a changing, modern world.” I can’t put it simpler than that. “Your competition isn’t waiting. Legacy won’t save you if you refuse to evolve.”

His fingers tap the table. He’s calculating every word I said into a formula that only he understands right now. Even Cristiano is looking at him for an answer.

“You want the Antonetti-DeMonte deal to go through,” he says.

“Naturally. I’ve got a stake in it as well now.”

---