Chapter 6 - The Battle for the Bakery
The grand entrance of the Bellini estate on the north side of Chicago stood bathed in the pale, sharp light of the morning sun as our caravan pulled through the gates.
Brittany was standing on the marble terrace, wearing a beautiful pink silk dress, a champagne glass in her hand as she prepared to welcome the board of directors for the annual shareholder meeting.
But the smile on her face withered into a mask of pure, unadulterated horror as the lead armored vehicle stopped near the fountain, and I stepped out onto the gravel.
I wasn't wearing flour-dusted clothes or the worn boots of a West Virginia baker; I wore the tailored dark suit my father had secured for my corporate debut years ago.
"Elena?" Brittany stammered, the champagne glass slipping from her fingers and shattering against the stone steps. "This is impossible... you're supposed to be in..."
"In a grave in Indiana, sister?" I asked, stepping up the marble stairs, my voice echoing off the high columns of the mansion.
"Or perhaps hiding in a mountain valley while your collection team cleared the remaining assets?"
Marcus walked up behind me, his tailored coat open, the corporate ledger held proudly in his gloved hand.
The board of directors, who had been arriving for the meeting, stopped in the foyer, their eyes darting from the living sister to the forged death certificates currently being projected onto the main security screens by Marco's technical team.
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"The power of attorney you executed three years ago is legally nullified under the state fraud registry, Brittany," Marco stated, his voice vibrating with an authority that made the security staff lower their weapons instantly.
"You have exactly ten minutes to clear your personal belongings from this estate before the federal marshals arrive to execute the grand larceny warrants."
