Page 115 of Unholy Union
While the text to Lazaro is a lot more direct in tone:
Status? She’s not here.
Neither answer.
Back on the screen, Mr. Bonaduce casts the first vote. The bald man leans forward in his chair and speaks into the mic positioned in front of him at the table.
“Aye.”
No surprise there.
Sergio had guaranteed us Bonaduce was firmly loyal to us now. He’d gone so far as to volunteer his office and gave us the in we needed to plant the cameras in the boardroom for the live feed.
Matteo Basile Senior, the father of Sabrina’s ex-boyfriend and a loyal Corsini capo, sits back in his chair with arms folded. “Nay.”
I bite down on my jaw, though I’m unsurprised by his vote.
Basile was always going to remain loyal to Rinaldo. He’s too deeply entrenched in the Corsini crime structure for anything else. We hadn’t even bothered trying to flip him.
Ms. Palazzo scores another vote for the hostile takeover when she avoids Rinaldo’s gaze at the head of the table and says into her mic, “Aye.”
Rinaldo’s nostrils flex but he says nothing.
My phone buzzes with an incoming call from Lazaro. I answer with a clipped, “Where the hell are you?”
“We just pulled in,” he answers. “Tire blew on the FDR. I swear, if I believed in fate, I’d say the universe had it out for us.”
I drag a hand down my face. “Is she with you?”
“She’s already in the elevator. She’s coming up.”
I hang up and toss the phone onto the desk like it’s hot to the touch.
Another vote hits. Mr. Williams votes aye, yet again confirming Sergio successfully bribed him.
My throat tightens. Three to one.
Rinaldo’s skin is practically gray now. He glances down at the table, then across at the board members he used to joke with over cigars and Chianti, the ones now trading him like an old horse ready for pasture.
His cousin Ricky Pieretti comes to the rescue with a nay vote.
We’re at three to two.
A few more board members cast their votes until the moment starts to feel more like a ping-pong match than an ouster of a CEO. The score evens up four-four, then five-four as the second to last board member locks in their aye.
Only one person at the table hasn’t voted and that’s Rinaldo himself.
He lifts his chin and gives a simple, defiant, “Nay.”
We’re back at the tie that we’ve anticipated. Five ayes, five nays.
It’s put us in the situation Papà said we would be in, relying on Sabrina’s vote, which only reminds me how seemingly desperate someone had been to get rid of her.
“C’mon,” I mutter under my breath as the seconds pass. The chairperson has started mentioning if there’s no further votes to be cast, then the motion will be considered dead on arrival.
The boardroom door flies open and Sabrina rushes through with cheeks flushed.
“Apologies for being late.”
