Chapter 4 - The Confrontation

The heavy oak doors of the Riverside apartment didn't break, but they rattled violently as Dominic’s security team bypassed the lower lobby locks.
Ava didn't move from her chair behind the desk. She had changed out of her ivory gown into a soft, cashmere sweater and black leggings. A steaming cup of decaf chamomile tea sat near her elbow.
The door swung open.
Dominic walked in alone. He had ordered his men to stay in the hallway, though Ava could hear their heavy boots shifting against the hallway floor.
He looked unraveled. His tuxedo jacket was gone, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his dark hair messy as if he had been running his hands through it for hours. But beneath the panic in his eyes, his signature arrogance was still burning like a dying candle.
“Ava,” he demanded, taking long strides toward the desk. “What the hell was that back at the hotel?”
Ava took a slow sip of her tea. She didn't look up until she had set the cup back on its saucer.
“It was a speech, Dominic,” she said smoothly. “Short. Clear. Well-received by the press, from what Frank tells me.”
“You humiliated me!” Dominic roared, slamming his hands flat onto the desk. The mahogany groaned under his weight. “In front of the entire council! In front of Whitcomb! In front of my men!”
“You humiliated yourself,” Ava replied, her tone so flat it cut through his shouting like a winter frost. “You kissed a woman on a lit stage while your pregnant wife was sitting six feet away. You gave our enemies every piece of ammunition they need to call you weak, unstable, and unfit to lead.”
Dominic’s jaw worked violently. “Celeste was... it was a mistake! A momentary lapse! It meant nothing!”
“It meant everything,” Ava said. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her ankles. “Because while you were busy enjoying your 'momentary lapse,' Celeste was downloading the routing keys for the Newark distribution hubs.”
Dominic froze. His dark eyes flicked around the room, as if suddenly realizing he was not in control of the conversation.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. “Celeste is an employee. She doesn't have access to Newark.”
“She had your phone, Dominic,” Ava said softly. “She had your biometrics while you were sleeping in her apartment on 72nd Street. Did you think I didn't know about the apartment? Did you think I didn't pay the lease through one of our holding companies just to see how long it would take you to realize you were paying her rent with my money?”
Dominic’s face drained of color. “Ava...”
“Don't,” she warned, holding up a single finger. “Don't try to play the protective husband now. You failed as a husband tonight. But more importantly for you... you failed as a boss.”
Dominic straightened up, trying to rebuild his tall, imposing posture. “I am the head of the Moretti family. You are my wife. You will come back to the SoHo penthouse, we will issue a joint statement blaming stress and medical exhaustion for your little outburst on stage, and we will handle Celeste internally.”
Ava looked at him with something resembling pity.
“Check your phone, Dominic.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Check your banking app,” she repeated gently. “Or call your chief financial officer. Go ahead. I’ll wait.”
Dominic reached into his pocket with trembling fingers, pulling out his phone. He tapped the screen, his thumb flying across the glass as he accessed the master treasury portal for Moretti Enterprises.
Five seconds passed.
Ten seconds.
The silence in the study grew so thick it felt suffocating.
Dominic’s breathing slowed. His eyes widened in absolute horror as he stared at the red numbers flashing across the encrypted display.
BALANCE: $0.00. OVERDRAFT NOTICE: PENDING AUDIT. ACCOUNT STATUS: FROZEN BY TRUSTEE.
“What did you do?” he whispered, looking up at her as if she were a ghost. “What did you do to my accounts? Where is the money, Ava? Where is the forty million for the port shipment on Friday?!”
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Ava picked up her tea cup, looking at him over the rim with gray eyes as cold as slate.
“I took my dowry back, Dominic,” she said softly. “And I left you the bill.”