Chapter 7 - GIOVANNI’S INVESTMENT
I nearly quit before I officially started.
“Your reasons,” I told Giovanni.
We were in his corporate office.
Glass walls.
Harbor view.
No guns.
No shadowy restaurant.
“Why do you care about Ashford?”
He answered without charm.
“Money.”
Good.
Moretti Global owned a minority stake in a shipping company that Ashford Biologics relied on for overseas distribution.
If the sale closed under current terms, Moretti could either gain a valuable contract or lose one depending on buyer structure.
“So helping me gives you leverage.”
“Yes.”
“Then the donation to Mom?”
His expression changed slightly.
“Personal.”
“Why?”
“My wife died of pancreatic cancer nine years ago.”
I said nothing.
“She had money. Excellent doctors. None of it mattered.”
That explained sympathy.
Not altruism.
“I watched your mother’s treatment situation and could help.”
“You investigated her medical finances.”
“Yes.”
“That is invasive.”
“Yes.”
He did not apologize.
Strangely, that made boundaries easier.
I accepted the job only after Rachel and separate employment counsel reviewed everything.
My duties:
Translation.
Foreign correspondence.
Document review.
No illegal tasks.
No debt to Giovanni for the donation.
The hospital contribution was documented as charitable assistance without repayment obligation.
I made him put that in writing.
He smiled when I insisted.
“What?”
“You negotiate better than Ashford expects.”
“I’m not negotiating with Ashford yet.”
“You are now.”
Then Mom entered the experimental treatment program.
Not solely because Giovanni paid.
A nonprofit fund covered another portion.
The hospital reduced some fees.
We still faced costs.
Reality did not become a miracle because a powerful man noticed us.
Mom remained sick.
She vomited.
Lost weight.
Spent entire afternoons sleeping.
Meanwhile, Tyler’s lawyers sent a settlement offer.
$500,000.
Full release.
Confidentiality.
No admission.
I brought it to Mom.
She read the number.
Then pushed it away.
“You decide.”
“Your right.”
“Your future too.”
“No.”
I sat beside her.
“This is exactly how families like theirs work. They turn relationships into authority.”
Mom smiled weakly.
“You sound like me at twenty-nine.”
“Did that go well?”
“No.”
We laughed.
Then she said:
“Get the valuation.”
May you like
For the first time, we were not asking what the Ashfords would pay to make us disappear.
We were asking what had actually belonged to her.
