The End of a Marriage (Colette and Matheo) novel Chapter 146

The End Of a Marriage

Chapter 146

Chapter 47

Mr. Forentino.

The older man, who had stayed silent through the entire debacle, finally stepped forward. His expression was as grim as ever, his button–like dark eyes cold and unyielding as they bore into Luca. For a moment, he seemed to relish the quiet before he finally hissed, his tone sharp as a blade, “I had promised you thirteen percent of my shares in the company as a wedding gift when you married Carlotta. Well, you can “forget”

about that!”

Luca had expected nothing less. Of course, it wouldn’t be Mr. Fiorentino’s style to spew emotional dramatics like Giulia or to couch his grievances in backhanded concern like his uncle. The man was nothing if not ruthlessly pragmatic. Straight to business, as always.

“I saw that coming from a mile away,” Luca replied, his voice clipped, his tone devoid of humor. It wasn’t a joke. It was simply the truth–one he had already accepted with grim finality.

Fiorentino’s lip curled into a sneer, his voice rising with icy derision. “I hold twenty–six percent of the shares in De Santis Group. Your mother has twelve percent. Your uncle, fourteen. You own the rest. But rest assured,” he leaned forward, venom dripping from every word, “I will do everything in my power to see you removed from your position as CEO. You hear me, boy? I will *not* rest until you’re kicked out of that office and out of the company. You are a disgrace–a stain on your father’s name, on his “legacy.*”

“Is that so?” Luca’s jaw tightened as he suppressed the fury building inside him. He’d tried to prepare for this moment, but nothing could dull the sting of hearing those words–the sheer audacity, the hypocrisy. Yet, despite the anger churning in his gut, he allowed himself a slow, bitter smile. “You know,” he said, reaching into his pocket with deliberate calm, “I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to this. But now, I’m glad it

has.”

From his pocket, Luca produced a crisp sheet of paper, neatly folded. He held it out to Fiorentino for a brief moment, then dropped it unceremoniously onto the floor between them, as though the older man wasn’t worth the effort of a proper handoff.

“There’s my resignation letter,” Luca said coolly, his voice steady but laced with icy disdain. “Typed, printed, and ready. I’ve had it prepared since the moment I realized I couldn’t go through with the wedding. I knew your greedy little mind would immediately fixate on the company -on my position–and I thought I’d save you the trouble.”

Fiorentino’s face twisted with rage, his mouth opening as if to retort, but Luca cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You’re welcome,” he added mockingly, turning on his heel without another glance at the seething man.

“And one more thing,” Luca threw over his shoulder as he started toward the staircase. “You can close the door behind you when you leave. My housekeeper’s on leave, and I don’t clean up after uninvited guests.”

He didn’t wait for a response. The distant sound of voices filtered down from upstairs, pulling his focus toward what truly mattered. Without another word, he ascended the stairs, his strides purposeful.

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