The Betrayed Mafia Wife Takes Bloody Revenge Chapter 07
The Widow Inherits
Rafe had no parents.
No children.
No surviving siblings.
Which meant every lawyer in the room eventually looked at me.
Thomas cleared his throat.
“Elena.”
“You are the primary beneficiary.”
I stared at him.
One of Rafe’s uncles frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Thomas didn’t look at him.
“It means Mrs. Cole inherits Rafe’s personal estate.”
The room went silent.
That included the penthouse.
Three commercial buildings.
Two legitimate logistics companies.
A private equity stake.
The hotel group.
His collection of vintage cars.
And the controlling interest in Cole Holdings.
Someone laughed once.
Then stopped.
Rafe’s uncle leaned forward.
“She doesn’t know anything about the business.”
I looked at him.
Thomas did too.
Then Thomas slowly opened another folder.
“Actually…”
He slid a stack of documents onto the table.
The first one had my name on it.
ELENA MORETTI — STRATEGIC ARCHITECTURE, 2019.
The next:
COLE LOGISTICS RESTRUCTURING PLAN.
Then:
BELLADONNA HOSPITALITY ACQUISITION MODEL.
All mine.
Rafe’s uncle stared.
Thomas said:
“Mrs. Cole designed the original holding structure.”
“She also handled due diligence on six of Rafe’s largest acquisitions.”
I said nothing.
Another man turned to me.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“But Rafe said—”
“I know what Rafe said.”
He said I liked school.
He said he “let” me study.
He said I played with spreadsheets because it kept me busy.
He never told them I wrote the plans he presented as his own.
I had let him.
At first because I loved him.
Later because I thought I owed him.
Rafe had paid my tuition when my parents refused to let me finish school.
He had bought my books.
Fed me.
Put a roof over my head.
So when his first business nearly collapsed, I helped.
Then helped again.
Then built half the machine he later claimed as his genius.
Thomas looked around the room.
“The board vote will still need to be formalized.”
“But as of now, Mrs. Cole controls the largest voting block.”
Mrs. Cole.
For years, they had used the name like a joke.
A decorative title.
A woman attached to a powerful man.
Now it was the only name in the room that mattered.
Thomas handed me another folder.
“Personal expenditures.”
I opened it.
Vivian Ross.
Apartment.
Car.
Jewelry.
Travel.
Cash transfers.
Three years.
Total:
$1,184,600.
I read the number twice.
Then closed the folder.
“Can we recover it?”
Thomas blinked.
“Potentially.”
“Some gifts may be challenged.”
“Some transfers came from marital assets.”
“We can pursue reimbursement.”
“Do it.”
He stared at me.
“All of it?”
I looked toward the empty chair where Rafe should have been.
“All of it.”