The Moretti Family’s Useless Eighth Daughter Was Actually a Hidden Powerhouse Chapter 07

The Moretti Family’s Useless Eighth Daughter Was Actually a Hidden Powerhouse Chapter 07

“Get her away from the table!”

Damian finally dropped the last of his polite facade.

His voice came out sharp, his fingers trembling with rage.

“Don Vittorio, this is a business and family negotiation, not a stage for your daughter.”

Two massive bodyguards lunged at me, one from each side, reaching straight for my shoulders.

“Don’t touch Alessia!”

Alessandro charged toward me.

He was too far away.

I shifted half a step, my eyes turning cold, and slipped past the bodyguard on my left.

My right hand snapped up and struck the other man’s neck with perfect accuracy.

He didn’t even have time to grunt before his eyes rolled back and his body crashed onto the carpet.

The second man had barely touched me when I caught his wrist, twisted, used his momentum, and drove my

foot into the back of his knee.

He dropped to the floor at once, his face turning white.

The entire exchange took less than three seconds.

But I knew I was still slower than I had been.

After a lifetime of eating well and avoiding anything strenuous, this body was not built for a fight.

And it hurt like hell.

I still had to look unbothered.

I brushed off my hands and looked down at the two men with disdain.

“This is the best you have, Damian? They couldn’t even carry my purse.”

The muscle memory from my previous life was still there.

This body had never gone through the same training, but it was more than enough to handle two bodyguards

who relied on weight and brute force.

The conference room fell silent again.

Several rival representatives visibly shrank back into their chairs.

My family had gone completely still.

Enzo stared at me as though he were meeting his little sister for the first time.

After years in private security, Enzo knew better than anyone that the terrifying part hadn’t been my strength.

It had been my judgment, angles, speed, and precision.

“You…”

Damian pointed at me and backed up two steps, hitting the projection equipment behind him.

I ignored him.

I walked over to Alessandro and snapped him out of his shock.

“Where’s your computer?”

Alessandro pointed blankly toward the other side of the table.

A silver laptop.

I sat down, turned the screen toward me, and placed my fingers on the keyboard.

Data and code began cascading across the display.

“Big bro-”

I stopped myself, then corrected the word.

“Alessandro, look at the third offshore position line.”

I hit Enter and pushed the screen toward him.

“Damian registered three shell companies in the Cayman Islands. The money kept circling between them to

create the illusion of a massive, highly leveraged funding pool. But the underlying collateral in all three

accounts came from those four overseas groups that are about to collapse.”

I pointed to a line that was plunging rapidly.

“Ten minutes ago, I sent an encrypted evidence package to European regulators. It covered Clément’s group’s

antitrust violations, illegal capital transfers, and concealed related–party transactions. Several overseas

accounts Damian used as margin were already starting to freeze.”

Alessandro stared at the screen.

After all his years on Wall Street, he didn’t need anyone to explain what he was seeing.

One glance was enough.

The next second, he slammed his fist onto the table.

“So this was a shell game.”

Alessandro looked up at Damian.

The Moretti family’s underboss had finally regained his cold stare.

“You shorted the Moretti family’s real assets with money that didn’t even exist.”