My Sister Popped The Bubble Of My Happy Marriage Chapter 13

Father quickly arranged a short media interview.

He didn’t deny the trust dispute. He just blamed my emotions.

“Celeste has just been through trauma. Her judgment is bound to be affected. We’re her family. We don’t

blame her. We just hope she’ll come home and talk things through.”

Mother sat beside him, dabbing her eyes, saying Serafina had always loved me most and now I had driven

her into hiding.

They knew the old me too well. I used to be terrified of being called unfilial or cold-blooded. Terrified that

everyone would decide I was the ungrateful daughter of the Santoro family.

But I no longer needed their approval to prove who I was.

I didn’t argue with Father in public. I just had Anthony release three key documents: the benefit notices the trust had sent out over the years, the receipts Father had signed but never passed on to me, and several fake project records used to move trust income into affiliated companies.

I added only one line.

“This is not a family matter. It is unauthorized transfer of assets.”

Santoro’s shareholders and partners demanded an explanation from Father. Several investors who had been

preparing to join the port project suspended cooperation, worried about being dragged into the investigation.

Father immediately called Matteo into his office and ordered him to get their story straight, to say I was

mentally unstable and all the transfers were internal family arrangements. Matteo looked at the payment freeze notices on the desk and finally asked the question he had been holding in.

“You gave her trust money to Serafina for a house and a company, and then told me Santoro had no money to save my project?”

Father slammed the desk and shouted that Matteo was the family’s only son and should think about the

bigger picture.

For the first time, Matteo didn’t back down.

“So I’m supposed to carry the debt for you? Every time something goes wrong, I’m supposed to clean up

after Serafina?”

A reporter outside the door caught their argument on camera, Matteo didn’t cover for Father anymore. He admitted the whole family had known about Dante and Serafina and had lied to me together. He also said

Father had tried to make me sign a personal guarantee as Mrs. Rinaldi for his company.

Once that got out, Santoro’s reputation took another hit.

I watched the video and didn’t feel satisfied. I only thought about the day of the surgery, signing the papers

alone and leaving the hospital alone. The family was finally turning on each other, but no amount of arguing

would bring that child back.

That night, Mother came to see me alone. She was holding an old tin box.

Inside were a few photos, a rusted hair clip, and a note Serafina had written me as a child. She brought up

the scar again. When we were kids, Serafina hurt her wrist, and Mother had always told me it was because

she took a punishment for me.

“She really did love you back then,” Mother said. “Can’t you let it go, for the sake of what you had?”

Anthony happened to be there delivering documents. He looked at the silver necklace in the photo, and his

expression changed.

That was the first-birthday gift Don Salvatore had given me. My initials were engraved on the back. But in the

photo, the necklace was around Serafina’s neck.

Mother finally admitted it. Serafina had stolen the silver necklace back then and hurt her wrist in a panic. To

keep Serafina from being branded a thief, Mother had changed the story to say she got hurt protecting me.

The necklace was later sold to pay for Serafina’s piano competition fees.

Even the comforting candy had been handed to me by Serafina because Mother told her to.

I had forgiven her countless times based on that memory. Serafina knew the truth and never corrected me.

“You gave her my things and then made me grateful for her kindness.” I pushed the tin box back toward

Mother. “You weren’t teaching me to be sensible. You were teaching me to accept being shortchanged.”

Mother cried and said Serafina was young then.

“And me?” I asked. “I was a child too.”

She finally had nothing to say.

Before she left, Mother asked if I really had no old feelings left.

I looked at the tin box.

“Most of the old feelings you left me were things you made up.”

She took the box and left. I didn’t follow.

The next day, Anthony showed me more of Grandpa’s old letters, Don Salvatore had repeatedly asked to take

me to live with him, to send me away to school. My parents refused again and again. And when I was fifteen, Serafina had even written to Grandpa privately, saying I was emotionally unstable and she didn’t want him

contacting me anymore.

Back then, I had cried and asked her why Grandpa stopped calling. She held me and said, “It’s okay. You still

have me.”

She didn’t just take my inheritance. She also hid the one thing that could have gotten me out of that house.

I finally understood. She hadn’t been entirely fake with me. But she was more afraid of me getting what should have been mine-afraid I’d stop depending on her, afraid that one day, everyone in the family would

finally turn their eyes to me.