The Ruthless Secretary Stripped the Widower and His Little Girl of Everything — Until the Maid Smashed a Dusty VHS Tape Onto the Dining Table

"Sign the surrender papers, Luca. A broken man living in the past has no business running the Moretti dynasty."

Victor Hale’s voice was as cold as the autumn rain lashing against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the private dining estate. Seated across the long mahogany table, the sixty-year-old secretary adjusted his dark-rimmed glasses, his lips curling into a smug, victorious sneer. Surrounding them were twenty-three silent family members and high-ranking board executives, their eyes fixed on the silver cutlery, too cowardly to speak.

Beside Luca Moretti sat four-year-old Sophie. She wore a delicate red dress paired with a dark cardigan, her small fingers clutching the sleeve of Luca’s dark suit jacket. Her wide, innocent eyes darted around the intimidating room, sensing the hostility suffocating the air.

"And the child goes to a private boarding school upstate," Victor added dismissively, flicking an imaginary speck of dust off his expensive navy lapel. "You can’t raise a four-year-old girl while trapped in grief, Luca. She’s an unnecessary distraction to the company’s bottom line."

Luca did not blink. At late thirty-something, his handsome Italian features were carved from grief and sleepless nights, his wavy dark hair swept back. For eight long years, ever since the tragic car wreck that took his beloved wife Alessandra, Luca had been a ghost in his own house. Victor had slowly drained his authority, taking over the accounts, manipulating the board, and treating little Sophie like an unwanted intruder.

Marco, Luca’s ambitious cousin dressed in a sharp black suit, stepped up behind Luca’s chair. He rested a heavy, insincere hand on Luca’s shoulder.

"Do what Victor says, cousin," Marco whispered smoothly into his ear. "Alessandra wouldn’t want you fighting a battle you already lost."

Luca’s jaw tightened. He picked up the heavy fountain pen. The silence in the dining hall was deafening. But just as the pen touched the paper, the heavy oak doors swung open with a violent thud.