Chapter 3 - Shadows in the Boardroom
The downtown headquarters of Caruso Global Logistics was a monolithic glass tower piercing the Chicago skyline. By noon, I was standing at the end of a sleek, glass-walled conference room table, listening to my chief operations officer, Marcus Vance, brief the board on our Q3 supply chain bottlenecks.
My mind wasn't on shipping containers or customs delays. It was back at the mansion, replaying Elise’s words: You're letting grief turn this house into a mausoleum.
"Dominic?" Marcus's voice broke through my thoughts. He was staring at me, a concerned frown wrinkling his forehead. "Are we moving forward with the Rotterdam acquisition, or should we hold off until the federal tariff review clears?"
I blinked, pulling myself back to reality. I adjusted my cuffs, my face locking back into the impenetrable mask I wore for the business world. "Proceed with the acquisition, Marcus. Secure the berths by Friday. I want zero delays."
"Understood," Marcus nodded, sliding his tablet into his leather portfolio. As the other board members began filing out of the room, Marcus lingered behind, closing the heavy glass door. He walked over to where I stood looking out over the city.
"You look like hell, Dom," Marcus said quietly. "Still no sleep?"
"The twins are having a hard time," I muttered, staring at my reflection in the glass.
"Look, I hate to say this, but maybe it's time to bring in professional round-the-clock medical nurses," Marcus suggested, leaning against the sill. "Or consider moving them to your mother’s estate in Grosse Pointe. You can't run a multi-million-dollar empire while playing single father to colicky infants."
"No," I snapped instantly, my tone sharper than intended. "They stay with me."
"And the new nanny?" Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Is she lasting longer than the last one? What was her name—Brenda? The one who cried because the nursery was too quiet?"
"Elise," I said, a faint, involuntary twitch of amusement touching the corner of my mouth. "She’s... different."
May you like
Marcus chuckled softly. "Different usually means she’ll demand double pay or quit by Sunday. Keep an eye on her, Dom. People in our position attract opportunists."
"She’s no opportunist," I replied, thinking of the way she had stood her ground against me with yellow gloves on her hands. "She’s something else entirely."
