They Called Me a Freeloader in My Own Empire

My father left me eleven wineries. The people paid to manage them decided I should live on three thousand dollars a month. For twelve years, I trusted Camilla to run the business. Then she married Luca and put him in charge of the accounts. He changed the locks on my estate, had my belongings removed, and put his wife’s name on the gate. My home was becoming her private club. I was offered a one-bedroom apartment. Then they demanded my seventy-percent stake. My dividends would become an allowance they controlled. The names of those receiving my shares were left blank. I refused to sign. Luca took my company card, dismissed my driver, and ordered me out of my office. My aunt told me to consider Camilla’s feelings. At the annual wine dinner, Luca handed me an envelope in front of everyone. “Three thousand dollars. That’s your monthly allowance, Vera. Learn to budget. You can’t keep depending on Camilla.” “Luca’s only trying to help,” she added. I pushed the envelope back and asked my lawyer to review their authority. She confirmed that the headquarters building belonged to me personally. Their permission to use the executive floor could be revoked by written notice. Luca had ordered me out, certain he could decide who belonged there. I told her to prepare the notice. Before he turned my office into a reception room, he would have to find somewhere else for his own desk. Chapter 1 “Sign here, Vera. It's just a change to the corporate structure. Camilla's already reviewed it.” Luca pushed the agreement toward me, opened it to the final page, and tapped the signature line. I left the pen where it was and turned back to the beginning. The sales director and operations manager sat around the conference table with several men who had worked for my father. Camilla occupied the chair at the head. Luca sat beside her. Everyone had a full briefing pack except me. All I had was the agreement they expected me to sign. On page three, I found a provision redistributing my seventy-percent holding. My dividends would be replaced by a fixed allowance, the amount to be determined by the new management. I looked up. “So I give you my shares first. Then I wait for you to decide how much money I can have?” “It's a restructuring proposal.” “Then tell me who gets the shares.” Luca unfolded his hands, almost relieved to have reached a question he had prepared for. “Some will reward key personnel. Some will bring in new partners. We're expanding exports and negotiating with other families. We can't keep doing everything the way your father did.” “Where's the list?” “The details are still being discussed.” “You've already decided how to replace my dividends, but you haven't decided who gets my shares?” Camilla set down her coffee. “That's why we invited you here, Vera. To discuss it.” “Then why aren't the proposed recipients named in the agreement?” I waited for her answer. Instead, she moved the pen Luca had placed too close to my hand. “Don't be so tense. We'll make sure you don't lose out.” She had said that before. When I came of age, my aunt started making me read the annual reports myself. Camilla would explain anything I didn't understand, line by line. Gradually, I had become comfortable leaving the business in her hands. Now she wanted the same trust without answering a simple question. “Camilla, is this what you want?” “Luca and I drafted it together.” She met my eyes. “In twelve years, I've put three labels nobody had heard of into some of the best restaurants in Europe. Every distribution agreement we have was negotiated by this team.” “I know.” “But you come home for two weeks a year and collect more in dividends than the entire management team earns. We're asking for some security. You could try to understand that.” The sales director leaned forward. “Miss Bellini, we respected your father. But he's been dead for more than twenty years. Camilla's the one entertaining buyers. We're the ones working nights in the warehouse and answering for the numbers.” The operations manager nodded. “You won't have to worry about money. As long as the company exists, we'll look after you.” “Why should my income depend on whether you feel like looking after me?” He opened his mouth, then closed it. “If you're underpaid, we can discuss salaries,” I continued. “Or bonuses. That is a separate conversation from asking me to give up my shares.” I closed the agreement. “I trusted Camilla to run the wineries. I never agreed to give up my shares.” The room went quiet. Camilla's expression hardened. Luca reached for the document. “Clearly, this isn't a productive time. Go home. Think it over. We'll reconvene when you're ready.” I kept my hand on it. “I'm taking this.” “It's an internal draft.” “It has a space for my signature. An independent lawyer will review it before I decide anything.” He looked at Camilla. Several seconds passed before she nodded. “Let her have it.” Only then did he withdraw his hand. I put the agreement in my bag and stood. “Please send the full proposal, the names of the intended recipients, and the last twelve months of financial statements. We can continue once I have them.” Luca gave me a small smile without agreeing to anything. “Don't make this ugly, Vera. We're family.” “Then you should have asked before trying to take what belongs to me.” The sales director gathered his papers without looking at me. Passing my chair, the operations manager murmured that a piece of paper wasn't worth destroying years of trust. I let him go unanswered. Camilla was the last to leave. At the door, she turned back, her voice softer. “Your aunt asked me to take care of you. Luca's only just become part of this family. At least give him a chance.” “I gave him a chance to manage the finances. That doesn't include deciding who gets my shares.” She pressed her lips together. “Think about it. I'll explain things to your aunt.” As soon as the door closed, I called my aunt myself. This time, nobody else would tell her what I had agreed to. Chapter 2 My aunt didn't answer that night. She called back the following morning while I was waiting in my office on the top floor. The finance department still hadn't sent a single statement. On the video call, Aunt Elena sat on the terrace of her country house. New leaves covered the vines behind her. She had a shawl around her shoulders and asked whether I'd eaten breakfast. “Coffee doesn't count,” she added. She had raised me after my father's death and guided the family through its hardest years. Poor health had gradually forced her to step back. Camilla had taken over more of the wineries' day-to-day business. I hoped I could at least explain the agreement to her. “Aunt Elena, about yesterday's meeting—” “Camilla told me.” She set down her cup. “You're unhappy with the changes, and you want to bring in an outside lawyer.” “Did she show you the agreement?” “She said the core team would receive some shares. They've worked hard. We can't give them nothing.” I photographed page three and sent it to her. “They aren't asking for a small allocation. They want to redistribute my holding and replace the dividends with an allowance. It doesn't say who gets the shares or how much I would keep.” She looked down at her phone. When she faced the camera again, she sighed. “Vera, Camilla will make sure you have enough to live on.” “I'm not asking whether she'll support me. I'm asking why I should have to give this up.” “She has managed those wineries for twelve years without a major problem. She's just married. Luca wants to help. How do you think she felt when you challenged them in front of everyone?” “They asked me to sign something. I need to know what it means.” “Then discuss it privately. Why involve outsiders?” Her brow creased. “Your father understood that family disagreements stay behind closed doors. What will people think?” I listened as she spoke about Camilla's feelings and the other families' opinions. She never asked whether I wanted the arrangement. “I tried discussing it. They wouldn't answer. I'm having the document reviewed, and I'm not signing it. Please don't tell them I will.” She was silent. “Take care of yourself,” I said. After the call, I sat for a while with the phone in my hand. Then the office door opened. Luca walked in carrying a glass of orange juice. He hadn't knocked. “Freshly squeezed.” He placed it beside the agreement and glanced at my screen. “Spoken to your aunt? She understands what's good for this family.” I left the juice untouched. “Where are the financial statements?” “Finance has a schedule. Everything doesn't stop because you've suddenly developed an interest in the accounts.” He sat down and slid a list across my desk. “If we're treating this as a business matter, there are expenses we need to address. This office is empty most of the year. We're still paying to maintain it. Administration will turn it into a client reception room tomorrow.” Below the office were my car, my driver, and the supplementary card linked to a company account. “The car and driver are company-funded. Those services end today. As for this—” He took the black card from the holder on my desk. “The company has no obligation to subsidize your personal spending indefinitely.” I picked up the holder and put it in my bag. “Yesterday I refused to sign. Today all these costs have become urgent?” He tucked the card into his folder. “If you're willing to reconsider the agreement, we can reconsider these arrangements.” “Does Camilla know?” He turned the list over and pointed to her signature. “Of course. She also asked me to remind you that independence is a good thing. You can't rely on other people to make your money forever.” I stared at the familiar handwriting. Yesterday she'd promised I wouldn't lose out. Today she'd signed off on her husband's attempt to pressure me into changing my answer. “I'll keep this.” I took the notice. “And I still want the statements. Taking away my office doesn't remove my right to information.” Luca stood, buttoning his jacket. “If you want a desk here, apply for one in the staff area. You'll be expected to keep regular hours. Under company policy, being away for months at a time would count as an unauthorized absence.” I gathered my papers. As he passed, he reached toward my shoulder to smooth my jacket. I stepped aside. “Don't touch me.” His hand paused before he lowered it. “Your father's paperwork doesn't find buyers or pay wages. Camilla keeps this business alive. The sooner you understand that, the better.” At the door, he looked back. “Leave your personal things. I'll have the cleaners pack them.” “I'll pack them myself. Tell everyone to leave them alone.” Once he was gone, I took my father's old journal from the drawer. Then I sent the agreement and the notice to the lawyer I had contacted, Sofia Conti. I also asked her to review every authorization still in effect. I needed to know how far the powers I had given other people had been stretched. Chapter 3 I took a taxi to the old estate. My father had bought the property before any of the other vineyards. It stood halfway up the hillside, with an olive tree in the courtyard where I drank coffee during my visits home. Half an hour later, trucks blocked the entrance. Workers carried boxes down the steps. Building materials lined the wall. The old wooden gates were gone. Beside the opening stood a new sign. CAMILLA PRIVATE CLUB. I paid the driver and climbed out. Two men were carrying a crate containing my father's wood carvings and the hand-painted cups I used every spring. Nothing had been wrapped. A carving slipped over the side. Before I could speak, the man behind them stepped on it. “Stop. Put that down.” The workers hesitated, then looked toward the courtyard. Luca stood by the fountain with a set of plans. His car was parked beside the steps. “Take the old furnishings to the clearance point out back,” he said. Then he noticed me. “Vera? What are you doing here?” I picked up the broken carving. Fresh wood showed along the split. “Coming home.” I put both pieces in my bag. “Who told you to throw out my things?” “We're refurbishing. The old pieces don't fit the design.” He rolled up the plans. “Camilla wants a private club for buyers and representatives from the other families. A place this size shouldn't sit empty fifty weeks a year.” “And you didn't think to tell me?” “We hadn't got around to it. The designer just finalized the plans. The crew happened to be available.” A drill started inside the house. Beyond him, I could see the curtains from my father's study crumpled on the floor. The paintings above the fireplace had been removed, leaving pale rectangles on the walls. “Stop the work,” I told the foreman. “This is my house. I haven't authorized any alterations.” “They have a contract,” Luca interrupted. “Don't make life difficult for the workers.” The two men still held the crate. “Put it down,” I repeated. “Nothing in there is to be thrown away.” Luca glanced at the foreman. Only then did he signal to the men. “There's no need for a scene,” Luca said quietly. “If you want the old things, put them in storage. Your accommodation is already arranged.” He held out a set of keys. “A one-bedroom apartment in town. Close to the shops and the station. Six months' rent paid in advance. You can move in today. You like peace and quiet. You won't get that here anymore.” I didn't take them. “Why do you get to decide where I live?” “Someone has to make arrangements. You can't leave everything to us and then object to every decision.” Several workers had stopped to watch. He made no attempt to lower his voice. “Camilla has enough to worry about. Learning to look after yourself won't hurt you.” He stood in my courtyard holding plans for my house, explaining why he had to remove me from it. I waited until he finished. “The house and the land are in my name. Your authority to run the wineries doesn't let you turn my home into a club.” “We have authorization.” He pulled several sheets from his folder. “Long-term lease and alteration consent. Signed yesterday afternoon. Your aunt approved them.” I took the pages. My name appeared as the owner. My aunt had signed under a power of attorney. “Did she know this meant making me leave?” “She knew what the property would be used for. And I've arranged somewhere for you to live.” “Did she know you would throw away my belongings?” He glanced at the crate. “Don't get caught up in details. She approved our use of the estate. We don't need to consult her about every piece of furniture.” That morning, my aunt had told me to trust Camilla. She had already signed away the use of my home and hadn't mentioned it. I photographed every page. “Your aunt handled everything for you when you were a child,” Luca said. “You never revoked her power of attorney after you turned eighteen. Isn't it a little childish to reject it now?” He laid the apartment keys on the stone ledge beside me. I left them there. “I'll arrange my own accommodation.” “Do you have to make this difficult for everyone?” “You're tearing apart my home.” I returned the documents and went to the crate. After inspecting the cups, I asked the foreman for clean packing paper and wrapped them myself. “Put these in storage. Keep my other possessions there too. I'll arrange collection.” Behind me, Luca's voice hardened. “You think those wineries can keep running without Camilla? She's been keeping your father's business going for years.” I took photographs of the work and sent them to Sofia with the lease. Then I called her. “My aunt has signed a new lease using an old power of attorney. It includes alterations to my house. Please check whether she had that authority, and prepare the revocation.” “I will. There's something else we've verified. The headquarters building is still owned by you personally. The company's use of the executive floor comes under a separate license you signed. That document permits withdrawal by written notice.” I looked at the plans in Luca's hand. “Prepare whatever I need to sign.” Chapter 4 The annual wine dinner took place in early April. By then, Sofia had served notice revoking my personal authorizations and was reviewing the estate lease. Camilla hadn't called. Finance still hadn't produced the statements. The invitation, however, arrived on time. Dinner was at the first winery. Rain had darkened the terrace, and the vines beyond it shone green in the evening light. The guests included winery managers, longtime clients of the Bellini family, and representatives from other families. Usually, my aunt or I offered the first toast. After my father's death, she had stood beside me and introduced me as his heir. When Camilla took over operations years later, my aunt had introduced her as the woman entrusted to manage the wineries. This year's program listed only Camilla and Luca. My table stood near the terrace. Aunt Elena waved from the front, but before we could speak, the host called Camilla to the stage. She wore a dark evening gown. Luca stood beside her while photographs of the eleven wineries moved across the screen behind them. “Thank you for your continued support,” Camilla said, raising her glass. “Luca and I will be leading our new partnerships together. Please speak directly to us about supply arrangements and expansion.” The sales director was first to stand and toast her. Several buyers followed. My aunt applauded. She didn't look at the program or ask why I wasn't beside them. I set the card down. After the speech, guests gathered around the stage. I was walking toward the terrace to call Sofia when Camilla stopped me. “Vera. A moment. We need to tell you something.” Luca took a white envelope from his briefcase. Several managers paused nearby. “You missed last week's shareholders' meeting. The board has decided to suspend your dividends and retain the funds in the business.” “I wasn't notified of a meeting.” “Administration handles notices. Ask them. But we've made provision for your expenses.” When I didn't take the envelope, he laid it on a tall table and pushed it toward me. “That's your monthly allowance from now on, Vera. Learn to budget. You can't keep depending on Camilla.” The flap was open. I could see the cash. “Three thousand dollars. Administration will arrange monthly payments. The apartment's already paid for. This is enough to live on.” Camilla nodded. “Luca's only trying to help.” I pushed the envelope back. “Then explain this to me: why do you get to decide whether I receive my own dividends?” Luca glanced at the people watching. His smile faded. “As I said, it's a board decision.” “Send me the resolution and minutes, including the reason for suspending payment.” “Not tonight,” Camilla said. “You've never run a company. Expansion costs money. Everyone else is contributing. You could make a concession.” “You asked for my shares. I refused. Now you've decided to withhold my income instead?” “Those are separate issues.” “Since I refused to sign, I've lost my office, my driver, and my card. Now the dividends. Tell me how I'm supposed to see them as separate.” Her mouth tightened. The managers looked away. Luca picked up the envelope and tried to slip it into my jacket pocket. I covered the pocket and stepped back. “I don't want it. I want my dividends, not an allowance you decide to give me.” He checked his watch. “We have a video conference at headquarters. Get yourself a taxi. If you have questions, speak to administration tomorrow.” They stopped beside my aunt on their way out. Camilla leaned close and said something. Aunt Elena looked toward me, worried. I didn't go over to explain myself again. Outside, I sent Sofia a message and called her. “They've confirmed the dividend suspension. They're still refusing the accounts. Serve the notice withdrawing use of the executive floor. I'm coming to headquarters. Bring anything else I need to sign.” “I'll meet you in the lobby.” Half an hour later, Sofia checked my signatures and handed the notice to the building manager. He acknowledged it and went to make arrangements. The elevator from the parking garage opened as we finished. Luca was on his phone. Camilla stopped when she saw us. “What are you doing here?” I put my copies in my bag. “My lawyer will explain.” Her expression cooled. Luca ended his call. “The clients are waiting. We can deal with this afterward.” We took the same elevator upstairs. Camilla walked straight to the executive suite and pressed her black-and-gold card against the reader. A tone sounded. ACCESS DENIED.