The Housewife’s Counterstrike Chapter 05
It wasn’t my handwriting at all.
The strokes were clumsy, obvious forgery.
And beside the signature was a very particular red seal—my personal chop.
That chop was locked inside the safe in my study.
Herman had broken open the safe and stolen it.
Maria’s face changed. She rushed at me and clamped down on my arm, her nails nearly cutting into my flesh.
“Give that back to Herman! What does a woman like you understand? Stop making a fool of yourself!”
Clara chimed in with a show of concern:
“Selena, Herman is about to take over the entire shipping line. This is a chance that comes to the Vance family once in a century. Don’t ruin his future over some petty thing!”
The mafia bosses and business associates around the table watched me with cold eyes, silent warnings glinting in every glance.
Herman came toward me step by step, his voice pressing down with menace.
“Selena. Hand it over. Don’t force me to invoke family law against you. Without me, you wouldn’t last a single day.”
I folded the document neatly and slipped it into my handbag.
Then I lifted my head and looked Herman dead in the eyes.
“Without you, I’m nothing?”
“Herman Vance, you fancy yourself the Don and think you control everything. But you’ve never spent a single minute really trying to understand who I am.”
I took a step forward. My gaze cut like frost.
“My father was the largest silent investor behind the Voyager line. Before he died, he transferred to my name every share of that line’s revenue rights—and its highest-tier *audit and accountability authority*.”
“Which means—”
I swept my gaze across every high-ranking gangster in the room. Confusion filled their faces.
“I have absolute authority to audit every piece of cargo smuggled through this line, and to verify whether every voyage was in compliance. Anyone who uses my name to issue authorizations or falsely declare goods—I can lodge a direct accountability complaint with the Shipping Regulatory Commission.”
The very same guests who had been mocking me a moment ago froze into wooden statues.
Several of the loudest capos looked to Herman like drowning men.
Even for the mafia, losing access to that enormous shipping channel meant the cost of every trade route would multiply many times over.
Clara went white with terror. Her whole body was shaking.
Maria’s grip on my arm flew open as if she’d touched a live wire. Her lips moved violently, but no sound came out.
The mighty, untouchable Don Herman stood rooted where he was.
“How could you have audit authority? Why did you never tell me?!”
I looked at him. There was nothing left in my eyes but a bottomless sorrow, and contempt.
“Six years of marriage. All your eyes ever held was your ambition, your schemes, and your Clara—the woman who understood the sea.”
“You never once glanced at the shipping files in my study. You never cared what my father had left behind.”
“To you, I was a free maid to be fooled at will.”
In front of everyone, I placed a call to the chairman of the Atlantic Shipping Regulatory Bureau.
“Good evening. This is Selena, the legal owner of the Voyager line.”
“Please launch an immediate and full audit of every piece of cargo the Vance family has moved through Marseille over the past three years, and every transaction record. And—”
“I am formally filing charges against Herman Vance—”
“—for forging my signature and attempting to issue unlawful authorizations.”