My Husband Betrayed Me — I Took His Empire Chapter 07

My Husband Betrayed Me — I Took His Empire Chapter 07

The rest was handled by The Commission.

They cleaned up the documents, sealed the accounts, replaced the people Luca Russo had placed throughout the family, and sent an official notice to The Irish Mob.

After DeLuca’s people took over the docks overnight, The Irish Mob no longer had access to the

routes.

The letter was simply a formality.

A statement that the old arrangement was over.

By midnight, the dinner had ended.

Vivian Ferraro stood waiting for me at the entrance of the main hall.

She held a white document folder in her hand.

“DeLuca’s people found four men at Westside Docks.”

She handed me the folder.

“They weren’t with Valentino. They were likely sent by The Irish Mob to watch the docks.”

“What happened to them?”

“DeLuca let them leave.”

“Good.”

I looked toward the empty hall.

“Tomorrow, help me draft a letter to The Irish Mob.”

“What do you want it to say?”

I spoke calmly.

“The previous accounts and profit-sharing agreement had nothing to do with Valentino.”

“Luca Russo is no longer connected to the Valentino family.”

“Any future arrangements involving the docks will not follow the previous terms.”

I looked at her.

“They’ll understand.”

“No need for threats.”

“Just tell them the old agreement is void.”

Vivian nodded.

Then she left.

The enormous main hall was empty.

Only I remained.

The fire in the fireplace had not completely gone out.

I stood beside the long table, looking at the scattered documents and photographs.

A wine glass was still sitting on the table.

A faint lipstick mark remained on the rim.

It was the glass Fiona O’Malley had used earlier.

I picked it up and placed it on the tray where the butler would collect the dishes.

Then I sat down in the chair at the center of the table.

The chair still held a trace of warmth.

It had belonged to Luca Russo.

Now it belonged to me.

The ring on my finger caught the firelight.

The serpent wrapped around the blade.

I didn’t take it off.

The next morning, Luca Russo arrived to hand over the materials.

Vivian Ferraro sat beside me.

A laptop was open in front of her.

Every file he handed over was checked and verified.

He brought four things.

The passwords for the shell companies in the Cayman Islands and Delaware.

The original registration documents for the Panama company under Fiona O’Malley’s name.

The complete transaction records from his private accounts.

And a handwritten list of contacts.

Three middlemen he had used to communicate with The Irish Mob over the past few years.

“The passwords work.”

Vivian closed the laptop after checking everything.

“There is less than forty million dollars left in the accounts.”

She looked up.

“Everything else has already been transferred.”

Luca Russo stood across from my desk.

His coat was gone.

His shirt collar was wrinkled.

His hands hung at his sides.

“Four years.”

His voice was hoarse.

“It started four years ago.”

“At first, I only wanted to make more money.”

He lowered his eyes.

“Then The Irish Mob found Fiona O’Malley.”

His voice became quieter.

“After that, things reached a point where I couldn’t just walk away.”

I looked at him.

“You could have stopped in the third year.”

He froze.

“In the third year, you had already started moving money away from the main accounts.”

I tapped the documents.

“The missing records in the books started from that year.”

He didn’t try to defend himself again.

I asked Vivian to prepare an official document.

An Affidavit of Renunciation.

A statement that Luca Russo voluntarily surrendered his family title and all rights connected to

Valentino.

A promise that he would never step onto Valentino Territory again.

He lowered his head and signed it.

His handwriting was messy.

His hand trembled slightly.

Fiona O’Malley was taken away that afternoon.

DeLuca’s people picked her up from the apartment where she had been staying.

She carried the child in her arms.

She didn’t cry.

She didn’t make a scene.

Before getting into the car, she looked back at Main House.

Perhaps she was waiting for Luca Russo to come out.

He didn’t.

He was in another room finishing the transfer of his final private accounts.

Vivian arranged a car to take Fiona to the station.

She also gave her an envelope.

Inside was enough money for her return trip and six months of living expenses.

The money came from the remaining funds in Luca Russo’s private account.

The family would not pay for it.

Fiona took the envelope.

Her lips moved slightly, as if she wanted to say something.

But in the end, she said nothing.

She simply held her child and got into the car.

The response from The Irish Mob arrived on the third day.

The person who came was a middle-aged man who introduced himself as their representative.

He wore a gray suit.

When he sat down at the meeting table, he first placed a business card in front of him.

The shamrock symbol.

The official contact representative of the Westside branch.

“The Valentino family has changed leadership.”

\ He looked at me.

“We understand.”

“The people involved in the previous agreement are no longer connected to Valentino.”

“We know that.”

“But the shipment schedule for Warehouse 7 was written down.”

He folded his hands.

“Now that you’ve taken over, can you guarantee everything will continue as planned?”

“Yes.”

I pushed the schedule DeLuca had prepared across the table.

“I’ll handle it personally.”

“Warehouse 7’s timeline remains unchanged.”

“The process stays the same.”

I paused.

“But the profit-sharing agreement will be renegotiated.”

I looked directly at him.

“Luca Russo’s portion is removed.”

“Valentino receives seventy percent.”

“You receive thirty percent.”

“Also, access rights to the dock facilities must be confirmed every month.”

The man flipped through the schedule.

After a while, he looked up at me.

Then he nodded.

“Monthly confirmation works.”

“Our transportation people will communicate directly with yours.”

I walked him to the door.

Before leaving, he stopped.

He didn’t turn around.

“Luca Russo…”

His voice was calm.

“He won’t appear in any future matters connected to us, correct?”

“He won’t.”

I looked at the closed gate ahead.

“You won’t be able to reach him.”

“And he won’t be able to reach you.”

The man nodded.

Then he left.

The entire cleanup took five days.

The Commission rearranged the seating chart.

The four people Luca Russo had placed in important positions lost their votes.

Vivian returned the original evidence against them to their homes, along with a simple message.

[You took what you shouldn’t have. Return it, and this matter ends here.]

All four resigned from The Commission that same day.

Fiona O’Malley’s cousin left even faster.

The night Luca Russo fell, he disappeared and never returned.

The five elders came back to their original seats.

Don Enzo didn’t return.

When I called him, he only said three words.

“Well done.”

Seven days after the Feast of the Seven Fishes, I received a package.

There was no sender address.

Inside was a brown envelope.

Inside the envelope was a photograph.

Luca Russo stood on a street in an unfamiliar city.

He wore an old jacket.

His hair had grown longer.

His beard hadn’t been shaved for several days.

There was no message written on the back.

But I understood why he sent it.

He was gone.

I placed the photograph inside the left drawer of my desk.

I never took it out again.