The Day My Don Got Sick, I Took His Empire Chapter 09

The Day My Don Got Sick, I Took His Empire Chapter 09

Six months later, Bellandi Holdings released its annual report.

That same day, I officially became Chairman and CEO.

Dante Bellandi’s name was removed from the founder’s message on the website. And from the core family list.

The official statement sounds very respectable.

Don Bellandi is on extended leave for health reasons. The Bellandi family will be fully managed by his legal wife and majority shareholder, Vivienne.

Everyone knew the real meaning.

The Bellandi empire no longer belonged to Dante.

Dante saw the news in his rehab room and passed out.

I was in the boardroom, signing the final share repurchase agreement.

The funds came from the earnings that were originally his.

I even bought back his last few shares.

After this, he had no real connection to Bellandi Holdings.

That night, Dante finally begged.

When they wheeled him into my office, he was so thin he barely looked human. Sunken eyes. Gray skin. Needle marks all over the backs of his hands.

The Don who made the underworld look up now struggled to sit straight. He looked at me, his voice a rasp.

“Vivienne, please.”

“I have nothing left.” He gripped the wheelchair arms. “My shares. My family. My health. Nothing.”

“Don’t do this to me… we were… husband and wife.”

Husband and wife.

Those words from his mouth were laughable.

I thought of the two children I lost. If they’d lived, they’d be running up to him calling “Daddy.”

But they didn’t get that chance.

Because of his lovers. His indulgence. His carelessness.

“Did you finish revising your will?” I asked.

Dante froze. “W-what?”

I slid a paper toward him.

“You still have several properties. Three hidden accounts. The leftover rights to the port shares.” I looked at him. “Don’t let them go to strangers.”

Dante stared at the list for a long time.

Then he signed, his hand trembling.

All assets to me.

***

One year later, Dante was dying.

The media wanted photos of him at his lowest. I kept them all out of the hospital.

Not from softness. The Bellandi family didn’t need any more scandal.

The ward was quiet. Dante lay in bed, tubes everywhere, a machine breathing for him.

He saw me and lifted his hand weakly.

I stood beside him and let him hold my fingers.

“You won…” he said, voice barely a whisper.

I looked down at him.

The man who once stood on top of the world had finally crashed to the bottom.

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else.

Maybe it’s shouldn’t have.

Shouldn’t have used my love as a bet.

Shouldn’t have brought woman after woman into my home.

Shouldn’t have let me lose our children.

Shouldn’t have looked down on me. Shouldn’t have hurt me over and over.

But he couldn’t finish his words.

The monitor let out a long, flat beep.

Dante Bellandi was dead.

I didn’t shed a single tear.

The funeral was quiet. Almost none of the people who once orbited him actually came. Just business representatives who had to show up. Distant relatives. A few family members.

As the ashes were buried, someone behind me whispered, “Vivienne is something.”

“In the end, she’s the real winner.”

They were right.

In the end, I won.

It could only be me.

Three months later, the will was finalized.

Dante’s offshore trusts. Hidden assets. Remaining shares. Investment earnings. All transferred to me.

Combined with the more than sixty percent of Bellandi Holdings I already held, the entire Bellandi empire was now mine alone.

The board held a reception for my first anniversary as chair.

Bright lights. Fine clothes.

I stood on stage in a white suit, holding champagne.

In the audience were the family elders who once never took me seriously. Also underworld representatives.

Now they all bowed.

“Madam Bellandi.”

“Chairwoman Vivienne.”

Celia came to my side. “Lena’s appeal was denied. She won’t get another chance.”

I nodded. “What about the others?”

“Everyone who should be in prison is in the prison. The ones who aren’t—their reputations are destroyed.”

“Enough.”

For those people, there would be no second chance.

Halfway through the reception, I stepped onto the balcony.

The city lights stretched out like a river of stars.

My phone buzzed. The CFO’s message: quarterly profits hit another record.

I put the phone away.

The night wind touched my face. I raised my glass and gave a small toast to the city.

I thought of standing in the rose garden at the Bellandi estate, years ago, watching Dante plant those red roses for me.

Back then, I thought that was love.

Later I learned it was just a low-cost decoration in his life.

But now, this city, this family, these lights—none of them were gifts someone gave me.

I raised my glass.

To freedom.

To power.

And—to the life that finally belongs only to me.