Chapter 4
Interim consensus.
A polite phrase.
I hated polite phrases.
They usually hide intent.
The six names belonged to men who had argued with me over the past year.
Not enemies.
Older loyalists.
Men who believed Moretti had changed too fast under me.
Spencer had been meeting them during my morning “rest.”
Meredith had been making sure that rest happened.
I asked:
“What were you building?”
Spencer smiled bitterly.
“Nothing you’d understand.”
I almost laughed.
“Try me.”
He accused me of centralizing too much authority.
Reducing family councils.
Ending certain collections.
Removing hereditary privileges.
Same old song.
Different relatives.
Then he said:
“Your father never made decisions alone.”
“My father is dead.”
“That’s the problem.”
Interesting.
Not grief.
Structure.
My father, Carlo Moretti, ruled through competing advisers.
Messy.
Useful.
No one man knew everything.
When I took over, I simplified.
Fewer informal courts.
Clearer lines.
Spencer hated it because men like him thrive between lines.
“What does interim mean?”
No answer.
Meredith looked at him.
That told me she knew less.
Good.
I turned toward her.
“What did he tell you?”
She swallowed.
“That you were exhausting yourself.”
I almost smiled.
“And?”
“That if you kept controlling every decision, something would eventually happen to you.”
“What?”
“Burnout.”
Convenient.
Spencer had sold her concern.
Then opportunity.
If I temporarily stepped away, Meredith could stabilize the house as my fiancée while Spencer coordinated the captains.
“How long?”
“A few weeks.”
Temporary.
Always.
I looked at Spencer.
“And after?”
His eyes changed.
There.
Meredith noticed.
“Spencer?”
He said nothing.
She stood.
“What happens after?”
He looked annoyed.
“You weren’t supposed to know everything.”
The room changed.
Meredith stared.
I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
She had drugged me repeatedly.
Used Iris.
Controlled food.
Whatever Spencer hid did not erase that.
But apparently she had been used too.
“Tell her.”
Spencer stayed silent.
So Rafe opened another folder from his car.
Inside was a draft seating chart for a Moretti family council.
My name was absent.
Meredith’s too.
At the top:
May you like
CHAIR — SPENCER KLINE.
My fiancée looked at her brother as if seeing him for the first time.
