Not a Trophy Wife, but a Mafia Queen Chapter 08

Not a Trophy Wife, but a Mafia Queen Chapter 08

The room fell into a deathly silence.

Someone drew in a sharp, collective breath.

The attorney flipped to the next page.

“Third. Over the past five years—”

“Every single instance of Ms. Ophelia Moreau providing personal financial support, living expenses, and corporate resources to Massimo has been meticulously documented.”

He rattled off a string of numbers.

Each figure was more outrageous than the last.

The crowd began to stir.

Massimo’s breathing turned heavy, his chest heaving.

“Furthermore—”

The attorney paused, his voice dropping to a freezing register.

“Massimo used corporate accounts to illegally transfer funds into his personal accounts, totaling—”

He named the exact amount.

The entire floor froze for three agonizing seconds.

Someone in the crowd couldn’t help but mutter under their breath.

“Jesus, that’s not just a minor discrepancy…”

“That’s straight-up embezzlement…”

The attorney closed the folder with a sharp snap.

He looked over at the two law enforcement officers standing by.

“We have completely mapped out the flow of these funds. The evidence is airtight.”

“We are ready to press charges at any moment.”

Then, he opened another file.

“Additionally—”

“Liliana Costa, without authorization, froze Ms. Ophelia’s personal accounts, manipulated company funds, and transferred jewelry assets.”

“The amount involved easily crosses the threshold for criminal prosecution.”

“She is looking at grand larceny and felony abuse of power.”

Liliana’s face drained of color, turning a ghostly white.

She took a frantic step back.

“I… I didn’t… I was doing it for Don Moreau…”

“Don Moreau told me to do it! Massimo, say something! Speak up!”

Her voice shook violently.

But Massimo couldn’t even hear her anymore.

He stood frozen to the spot.

The color bled from his face, inch by inch.

He had always believed this was his company.

He thought he was spending his own money.

He thought he could move wealth around at his whim.

But now—

The lawyer was slapping him in the face with cold, brutal facts.

None of it belonged to him.

And once they pressed charges for his past operations—

He was going to federal prison.

Panic finally pierced through his arrogance.

He snapped his head toward me, real terror flashing in his eyes for the very first time.

“Ophelia…”

His voice trembled.

“You… you’ve been plotting against me this whole time?”

I stared back at him.

My gaze was entirely devoid of warmth.

“Plotting against you?”

I let out a soft, mocking chuckle.

“I actually trusted you.”

“Before you married into my family, I explicitly told you that the Moreau family has strict standards for a son-in-law who takes our name. You were the one who insisted it didn’t matter.”

I paused, letting the weight of my words sink in.

“My original plan was to hand over a massive block of shares to you after the baby was born.”

“To let you officially sit in the CEO’s chair with real power.”

I raised my eyes to lock onto his.

“You did this to yourself.”

“You blew your own chance.”

I reached into my bag and pulled out a legal document.

I slammed it directly against his chest.

“Divorce papers.”

“Sign it.”

The pages scattered, fluttering down around his expensive shoes.

Massimo flinched as if he had been struck by lightning.

In the next second, he lunged forward, grabbing my wrist in a desperate grip.

“Ophelia!”

“Don’t do this!”

His voice warped with panic.

“Let’s go home and talk about this, okay? This kind of stuff… we can settle it privately!”

“There’s no need to make a public scene!”

He lowered his voice, his tone a toxic mix of frantic begging and veiled threats.

“If you keep pushing this, the company’s reputation will take a hit! The stock price will crash!”

“You’re a shareholder too, you can’t just ignore the bottom line!”

I didn’t move an inch.

Massimo’s breathing was completely erratic now.

He stepped closer, his voice losing all semblance of control.

“And have you even thought about it—”

“If we actually get a divorce, what happens to the company?”

He scanned the executives in the room, frantically grasping at his last lifeline.

“A multibillion-dollar empire like this—who runs it without me?”

“Can you find a more qualified CEO than me anywhere in this city?”

He stared at me, his eyes stripped of all previous calm, revealing nothing but a crumbling, desperate mess.

“And the baby!”

“We have a family together!”

“A child needs a father!”

The air in the room grew heavy enough to suffocate.

Suddenly, his voice softened, dropping into a shattered, pathetic plea.

“I can cut Liliana loose…”

“I promise.”

“From now on, I’ll only focus on you and our life together.”

“I’ll resign.”

“I’ll give up everything.”

“I’ll stay home and take care of the family.”

He took another step forward, his voice dropping to a trembling whisper.

“Ophelia, let’s just start over. Please?”