He Replaced His Wife And Lost His Mafia Empire Chapter 17
The day I was discharged from the hospital, the Moretti family lost its first casino hotel.
It was the project Dominic had been most eager to expand after taking power.
Back then, the captains had thought the risk was too high and refused to invest. I was the one who invited Miles and several California partners to Chicago for dinner, then personally assured them Dominic would control spending and open the accounts to investors on a regular basis.
They hadn’t trusted the Moretti family’s plan.
They had trusted that I would not gamble with the Costa family’s reputation.
Now that I had withdrawn that assurance, they no longer wanted to leave their money or routes in Dominic’s hands.
At the meeting, Dominic accused Miles of deliberately trying to bankrupt the Moretti family.
An older captain cut him off.
“The Costa family didn’t take our money. They just stopped vouching for us.”
He produced the internal reports from the last five years.
Every year, Dominic had emphasized the stable relationship between the Moretti and Costa families in his letters to allies, yet he had never once mentioned who had actually maintained that relationship.
I had shuttled back and forth whenever disagreements arose between the two families. After Dominic refused to compromise, I was the one who found terms both sides could accept.
I had never held an official family title, because the old rules did not allow women into core meetings.
That work had never appeared in my salary records or my official role.
Now that Dominic wanted someone to replace me, he discovered that no one even knew the full scope of my duties.
Sloane had only saved meeting times and restaurant addresses.
What had really been negotiated, who had promised what, and which lines could never be crossed—all of it existed only in my memory and in work records I had organized to professional audit standards.
The captain didn’t ask for me to come back.
He only looked at Dominic and said, “You treated the person who kept our partnerships alive as a wife whose protection could be stripped away at any moment. Now, no one has the right to order her to help us.”
It was the first time the Moretti family had acknowledged what I had done in a meeting where I wasn’t even present.
But recognition that came too late couldn’t repair any of the lost partnerships.
Worse followed.
Donors I had once handled demanded to inspect the charity’s books. They discovered that funds under Margaret’s name had paid for renovations at the Lake Geneva house. Dominic’s mother had also let her friends occupy apartments intended for low-income families for years, rent-free.
Miles hadn’t created those problems.
They had always been there.
Every time someone had questioned them before, I had been the one to issue refunds, make explanations, and fill the gaps.
I thought I was protecting the family’s reputation.
In truth, I had only taught them to believe that no matter what they did, someone would clean up after them.
This time, I turned over every record I had kept to a neutral adviser and personally marked the items that needed to be addressed at the allies’ meeting.
Money that should be repaid had to be repaid. People who violated internal accounting promises would no longer be covered by me.
Sloane tried to take over my work.
She sent every donor the same generic apology and arranged for Dominic to make a statement before allied representatives, claiming the Moretti family was under malicious attack from the Costas.
But the moment anyone asked about specific amounts, she couldn’t answer.
Dominic had no choice but to end the meeting early.
The next day, three more captains suspended tribute, and two more partnership routes closed.
One by one, in front of witnesses, they withdrew their loyalty papers.
When the final one was taken back, Margaret had no choice but to remove the boss’s signet ring from Dominic’s hand and give it to an interim caretaker.
Dominic had lost his authority.
He had once thought I managed only menus, seating charts, and elders’ birthdays.
Only after every small thread snapped at once did he understand that the Moretti family’s dignity had, for five years, been held up by the wife who was never allowed in the formal portrait.