Aceto was shock-struck.
He buried his face in his palms, thinking hard, pondering rapidly. The clock was ticking.
The disadvantages would overload the advantages if he were to decide otherwise. And sticking with the Stolovs would benefit him nothing. What even would be the point?
He gritted his teeth.
This was business, not so friendly team-up match. The Stolovs and anyone who was put in this situation would have to understand.
Slamming his hands on the table, he hollered. "Fine. I agree. But 60-40."
"No, no." Nikolas chuckled. "50-50."
"60-40, Mr. Bastiani." Aceto looked displeased.
Nikolas held his hand up, cocking a brow. "I said 50-50, Aceto. And I’m being this generous rely because I wish to compensate you for whatever backlash you may suffer from withdrawing. Other than that, it would have been 70-30."
"Mr. Bastiani!–"
"I’m sure you’re not stupid, Aceto." Nikolas growled. "Who’s benefiting whom in this ga? I am giving you more benefit than you’ll ever give . You are very aware of what the Bastiani na can get you. So, what are you being greedy for? You’ve got to understand that I don’t really like greedy n like you. Don’t push it, you shaless old hag."
Aceto’s eye twitched. ’? Greedy? A shaless old hag? I am a man you bastard!’
He retorted, "I’m the only one that knows your secret. What will happen if the world finds out that who they believed was you was nothing but a proxy? You’ve hidden yourself for so long, I don’t even want to begin imagining why you resorted to staying anonymous."
Nikolas’s dark eyes settled on him instantly. But Aceto reminded himself to stand his ground. Nikolas stood up, circling the desk with his hands clasped behind his back to stop in front of him. He towered at 6’6" over Aceto, who barely stood at 6’1".
"Do you think I’m a stupid man, Aceto?"
"What?" Aceto shifted, an uneasy pit forming in his stomach. He felt dizzy.
Nikolas rubbed his chin. He stared at him for a mont before saying, "The first mistake you’ve made with was assuming you could blackmail in a scene I thought through and set up myself."
Aceto took a large gulp. "W-what do you an?"
Nikolas leaned in with a dry smile and tilted his head. "I dare you to do what you have in mind as of this mont, Aceto."
"What?"
"That’s right, you old hag. Go ahead and give it a shot. Let’s see how it plays out for you."
"A-are you threatening ?"
"Am I?"
Aceto swallowed, because Nikolas was getting a little frightening right now, and he’d rather go back to when they were having a casual conversation. "If I do, wh... what are you going to do to ?"
Nikolas’s eyes thinned into a slit, that unbothered expression slipping back into his face. He smirked. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"
———
Viviana looked at her father’s company, the last place she wanted to be right now. Dragging in a deep breath, she stepped inside and as she headed toward the elevator, workers glanced her way, brows faintly zipped.
She hadn’t co into work this morning, and it was near closing hour.
The elevator carried her to the second floor and as she stepped out, she moved through the wide office floor. Her gaze brushed past Gin, hunched over his desk, but she didn’t slow down, didn’t feel a shred of guilt for what she’d done to him.
He had no right insulting her mother.
She stopped in front of her father’s office, hesitating for a few seconds before knocking.
"Co in."
Viviana moved in, closed the door behind her and turned around to face her father, who was staring at her.
He interlocked his fingers and popped them under his chin. "So? Have you made your decision? Will you divorce him?"
Viviana didn’t answer. She approached instead, saying, "I have a question."
"Go ahead."
"Were you aware that your wife harassed my mother at the hospital?"
Amadeo lifted a brow. "What–"
"Actually, never mind. I’m sure you did. And that’s fine. I know you don’t care. But did you really have to cut off her treatnt?" Her hands curled into fists. "She’s suffering because of you, Pa. My mama loved you unconditionally, more than any woman ever could. Why? Why are you doing this to her?"
The expression on Amadeo’s face grew dim. He couldn’t seem to give her an answer. All he could do was stare.
"I’ve never been able to understand it. How could you love a woman and promise her the world, only to abandon her? Does it make you happy to see her miserable? If you never loved her, why marry her? Why make her yours at all?"
Her lips quivered, betraying the control she tried to keep.
"She loved dancing. She could have been a professional ballerina if she had continued with her dream. But she gave it all up for you. Tell , why did you do this to her? I am not asking for an explanation, and I do not care to hear you say again that you love her. What I want to understand is how you could do this to a woman you once claid to love. A woman you made believe she was the luckiest person alive. Why?"
Amadeo didn’t answer. Instead, he turned away, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled a slow stream of smoke.
"You don’t know anything, girl. And you’re asking stupid questions."
Her jaw clenched.
"I see." She swallowed. "Why did you give those scars?"
"To set you straight."
"Why couldn’t you love ?"
"Viviana–"
"Why do you love a child that isn’t even yours more than ? Why do you treat the way you do but dote on a woman who isn’t your blood?"
Amadeo’s jaw ticked, his eye twitching. "Is this the nonsense you ca here for? To question ?"
Viviana’s lips curved into a faint, broken smile. "No, I just thought... it wouldn’t hurt to ask. I was thinking to myself that maybe you’d have reasons I could understand. Maybe sothing that would help make sense of why a father treats his own child this way, why a husband abandons the woman he claid he loved. But honestly? I’m not disappointed you have nothing to say. I expected it."
"I saw it coming. I knew this was how it would go." She drew in a sharp breath. "You’ve never loved . And my ma... You didn’t love her either. You just wanted to destroy her. You found pleasure in breaking her, and you lured her in like the devil you are."
Amadeo slamd his hands on the desk and shot to his feet, his glare boring into her. "Viviana, you better watch the things you say–"
Viviana stord up to his desk, tore a sheet of paper, and picked up a pen. Scribbling quickly, she tore the note from the pad and shoved it at him.
"What is this?" Amadeo lowered his gaze.
"I quit."
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