My Sister Popped The Bubble Of My Happy Marriage Chapter 10

Three days later, the court approved part of the emergency asset preservation request, restricting spending from two company accounts directly tied to the disputed transfers.

Father finally panicked.

He tracked down my Boston apartment through the Santoro family’s private investigators. When he showed

up with Mother and Matteo, I had just come back from my post-op checkup.

Mother rushed at me the second she saw me. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to this family?”

She grabbed my wrist and didn’t even notice how pale I was.

I pulled my hand back. “This isn’t the Santoro Estate. Get out.”

Father threw a stack of documents onto the table. “Drop the asset preservation request. Now. The company has hundreds of employees waiting for their paychecks. Are you trying to get people fired because you’re throwing a tantrum?”

I opened the file.

The first page was a waiver of claims. If I signed it, Father’s unauthorized transfers could be repackaged as

asset arrangements approved by the beneficiary.

They weren’t here to apologize.

They were here to plug the last hole.

“Since when is the company my responsibility?”

Father’s face darkened. “The Santoro family raised you all these years!”

Just then, Anthony arrived with two forensic accountants.

I pushed the first page of the trust audit report in front of Father.

“The trust started generating income when I was seven. According to Grandpa’s arrangements, my education

and living expenses should have had an independent budget. But you took the money and told me the

Santoro family was supporting me.”

Mother’s expression changed.

“We’re family. What’s the difference whose money it is?”

“Is that right?”

I kept flipping through the report.

The piano Serafina received at sixteen was worth over sixty thousand dollars.

The overseas summer program at eighteen cost more than thirty thousand.

Four years of tuition abroad, over five hundred thousand dollars.

The office rent, staff salaries, and operating costs of the cultural company under her name were also paid

largely from my trust.

Matteo’s sports car, his startup capital, and the funding gaps after two failed investments added up to

millions.

And I once couldn’t afford college housing.

Matteo stared at the report, his face slowly changing.

“Dad, didn’t you say my startup money came from the company?”

“Now is not the time for this!” Father snapped.

I looked at Matteo.

“You always say Serafina gave me the marriage and the position of Mrs. Rinaldi.”

“But the house you live in, the cars you drive, the money you spend. How much of that never belonged to

you?”

Mother opened her mouth, and in the end still said,

“Serafina isn’t healthy, and your brother has to inherit the family business. You were always the easy one. What’s wrong with carrying a little more?”

Even with the evidence in front of her, she still thought I was the one in the wrong.

She was just unhappy that I had finally stopped being the sensible one.

Father lowered his voice and started threatening me.

“If Santoro Holdings goes down, what do you think people outside will say? They’ll only know that you destroyed your own family with your own hands.”

I didn’t argue. I signaled for Anthony to hand the rest of the audit materials to the forensic accountants

waiting outside.

One of them produced a court-approved document.

“Mr. Santoro, we need to review several related-party transfers and require you to provide the relevant

accounts. Please cooperate with the investigation.”

Father’s face went gray.

Mother tried to speak, but Matteo cut her off.

He grabbed the report and stared at one transfer in particular.

Last year, Father had transferred 1.2 million dollars to the cultural company under Serafina’s name.

On the same day, Father told Matteo the family had a cash flow problem and couldn’t put more money into

his project.

Matteo looked up, and for the first time there was no disgust in his eyes when he looked at me.

Only the fear of someone who had just been lied to.

“Dad, didn’t you say all the family assets would go to me one day?”

Father glared at him.

“Shut up!”

Matteo clutched the report and took a step back.

This family, which had always stood united against me, finally cracked over the uneven distribution of

money.

I stood by the door and watched them calmly.

“Now. Give back what you took from me. Every last piece.”