My Sister Popped The Bubble Of My Happy Marriage Chapter 09

I stared at the numbers on the income statement and didn’t speak for a long time.

Anthony pushed another trust administration document toward me.

“Don Salvatore set up independent oversight provisions. Vittorio was only the temporary administrator. He

had no authority to dispose of trust principal or transfer income to family members or affiliated companies.”

Vittorio Santoro was my father.

But for years, he had been using affiliated companies and fabricated project contracts to move trust income

into Santoro Holdings and other family businesses.

Every dollar on the statement had a clear destination.

Serafina’s tuition and living expenses abroad came from my trust.

The piano she received, the overseas summer programs, the seed money for her startup company. Also

from my trust.

Matteo’s sports car, his investment projects, and the funding gaps after his two failed ventures. Filled by my

assets too.

Even the Santoro Estate where my parents lived now had more than seventy percent of its purchase price

paid from that same source.

And when I was in college and couldn’t even afford room and board, Mother had thrown the tuition notice in

my face.

“Serafina needs the money more, she’s overseas. You’re an adult now. Figure it out yourself.”

I worked several night shifts in a convenience store, so feverish I could barely think, just to scrape together

living expenses.

Serafina comforted me over the phone.

“Celeste, just hold on a little longer. When I’m able, I’ll make it up to you.”

She was spending my money and telling me to keep enduring.

Anthony saw my hands shaking and took an old, yellowed letter from the file bag.

The envelope was in Grandpa’s familiar handwriting.

For my Celeste.

I had to try several times before I could open it.

In the letter, Grandpa said he had never forgotten me.

It was just that I had never liked to fight for things as a child. Every time he wanted to give me something, Mother would say Serafina was in poor health and needed more care, Matteo was young and didn’t know any

better.

And I was the sensible one. So I should always give in one more time.

At first, Grandpa thought these were just small matters within the family. But when he saw that everyone had

come to take my concessions for granted, he decided to put the most important assets into an independent

trust.

He hadn’t handed me control directly because he was afraid I would trade away what was mine just to win

my parents’ approval.

The last line of the letter said only this.

“Celeste, these things will truly belong to you only when you stop begging them to love you.”

Tears fell on the paper. I wiped them away quickly.

So someone in this family really had seen how unfairly I was treated.

But Grandpa died before he could see me truly leave.

“Why did the trust never notify me?”

Anthony was silent for a moment, then pulled up the delivery records.

“We sent benefit notices every year. The early receipts were signed by your father. Starting two years ago, the

signer changed to Serafina.”

I looked up.

Serafina knew.

She knew I had assets under my name that were enough to free me from the Santoro family, and she still watched me bow to my parents, sign guarantees for Matteo, and use my position as Mrs. Rinaldi to fill the

family’s funding gaps.

She wasn’t afraid I couldn’t handle the betrayal.

She was afraid that one day I wouldn’t need them anymore.

My phone screen lit up with a message from Dante.

[I’ve already made Serafina leave the townhouse. Come back. We’ll start over.]

I glanced at it and blocked his number.

Then I picked up the authorization documents Anthony handed me and signed my name, page by page.

Application for an independent financial audit,

Recovery of improperly transferred trust income.

Application to preserve disputed affiliated assets.

Legal action against the temporary administrator.

Anthony put the documents away and warned me,

“Santoro Holdings still depends on this trust income to keep part of its operations running. Once the court

approves the asset preservation, the company could face immediate cash pressure. And your father will

know very soon that you’ve seen me.

I closed Grandpa’s letter. “He hid this for years because he was sure I would never dare to fight back.”

I stared at the documents I’d signed, and finally made up my mind.

“Then let him see it for himself. This time, I’m not just leaving Santoro. I’m taking back everything that

belongs to me.”