Chapter
Seven
ISLA
My mouth drops open.No words come out.
“I’ll leave you two to discuss your predicament in private.” Raffael stands and walks to the door with maddening composure. The sharpclickof the latch as it closes behind him acts like a gun being cocked.
The moment he’s gone, I cut across the room and drop to my knees in front of my father, the hardwood floor biting into my skin.
His eyes are glassy, his lips pressed thin.
“Dad?” My voice cracks under the weight of dread. “Tell me what’s going on.”
He doesn’t reply, just breathes, slow and unsteady.
“Dad, please.” I study him, searching for answers in a face that seems to have aged dramatically since this morning.
His fingers twitch against the armrest. “It’s like he said—our families have had an agreement in place for a long time.”
“What sort of agreement?”
He shifts uncomfortably. “We look after each other.”
“How does a private equity firm look after a consultancy when they’re already being charged legacy rates?”
His face crumples, despair bleeding through every line.
Fine. I’ll try an easier angle. “How dowelook afterthem?”
He focuses on the desk behind me. “We prioritize their projects.”
I digest the information slowly. Thoroughly.
Okay, so preferential treatment without full disclosure to our client base undermines trust and creates a conflict, but it’s not insurmountable. I can fix this.
I lean in, trying to regain eye contact he won’t allow. “Is that all?”
His despair deepens. Contorts.
Shit. “What else, Dad?”
He draws in a shaky breath. “There have been times when projects came in from other clients. Good ones. With high return potential.”
All the warmth drains from my face. “And?”
“And I’ve advised the client it was too risky. That they should pass on the acquisition.”
Oh, fuck.
He doesn’t need to spell it out for me to know he fed the information on those high-return projects to the Cavallo Group.
I shoot to my feet, pulse rampant, mind racing. I snatch the glass of Dalmore from the desk and down it in three blistering gulps, hoping the fire might cauterize the panic.
How could he have done this?
It isn’t just shady. It’s a professional sinkhole. Insider manipulation. Advisory malpractice. Ethics torched to ash.