The Mafia King’s Wife Walked Away

Part 2: The Company in My Name

Daniel Mercer placed the document back on the table.

“Claire, this company has received nearly forty million dollars over eighteen months. Several transfers were made to offshore accounts, and some of the money may have come from illegal operations.”

I stared at him.

“Are you saying Vincent used my name to hide his money?”

“I’m saying we need to find out before federal investigators do.”

My hands trembled beneath the hospital blanket.

“Can you prove I never knew about it?”

Daniel nodded. “We can establish that you had no role in the company’s daily operations. But we need the original records, banking documents, and electronic signatures.”

“Where do we start?”

“Your husband’s office.”

I almost laughed.

“Vincent won’t let me within a hundred feet of that building.”

Daniel closed his briefcase.

“Then we’ll find another way.”

Before he could continue, my phone buzzed on the bedside table.

A message from Vincent.

Vincent: You have until tomorrow morning to withdraw the divorce papers.

Another message appeared.

Vincent: If you destroy this family, don’t expect to see Noah again.

My chest tightened.

Daniel read the messages over my shoulder. His expression darkened.

“Save everything. Threats like these may become important evidence.”

I wiped my tears away.

“He thinks he can frighten me into coming home.”

“Can he?”

I looked at the photograph beside my bed. Noah was smiling in his tiny blue suit at his third birthday party, unaware that the family around him was falling apart.

“No,” I whispered. “Not anymore.”

Three days later, I was discharged from the hospital. My ribs still hurt, and every movement reminded me of the men who had beaten me.

Daniel arranged for me to stay in a secure apartment under the protection of two former federal agents. He also filed an emergency request for temporary custody arrangements.

Vincent responded within hours.

He arrived at Daniel’s office with six armed bodyguards.

I was sitting across from my attorney when the doors burst open.

“Where is my wife?” Vincent demanded.

Daniel stood calmly.

“Your wife is here voluntarily. You are not permitted to threaten her or interfere with her legal representation.”

Vincent ignored him and looked directly at me.

“You’ve been hiding from me?”

“I’ve been protecting myself.”

His eyes moved over my pale face and the bruises still fading along my jaw.

For one brief second, something resembling regret crossed his expression.

Then it vanished.

“Come home, Claire. We can settle this privately.”

“You mean you want me to sign whatever papers you put in front of me?”

“I want my family back.”

“No. You want control.”

His jaw tightened.

I reached into my handbag and pulled out a copy of the suspicious company registration.

“Tell me why my signature is on this.”

Vincent’s eyes dropped to the paper.

The silence that followed was answer enough.

“Where did you get that?” he asked.

“That’s not an answer.”

He stepped closer.

“Claire, you don’t understand what you’re looking at.”

“Then explain it.”

He glanced at Daniel before lowering his voice.

“Some things are safer when you don’t know about them.”

I felt sick.

“You used my name to hide money, didn’t you?”

Vincent said nothing.

I stood slowly, fighting the pain in my ribs.

“I’m done being your wife, Vincent. And I’m done being your shield.”

His face hardened.

“You walk out that door, and you may regret it.”

I met his eyes.

“I already regret marrying you.”

For the first time, Vincent looked genuinely wounded.

But I didn’t wait to see whether his pain would turn into anger.

I walked out with Daniel beside me.

That evening, an unknown number called my phone.

A man’s voice spoke before I could ask who it was.

“Mrs. Moretti, my name is Agent Collins. I’m investigating the company registered under your name.”

My blood ran cold.

“Am I under investigation?”

“Your name appears on several financial documents. We need your cooperation.”

I gripped the phone.

“I didn’t create that company. I didn’t authorize those transfers.”

“Then I suggest you find out who did. Because someone has been moving money through that company even after your husband ordered the attack on you.”

I stopped breathing for a moment.

“What do you mean?”

There was a pause.

“Mrs. Moretti, the most recent transfer was made yesterday.”

I looked toward the darkened window.

Vincent had threatened me. He had tried to buy my silence. He had used my name without my knowledge.

But someone else was still moving money.

And whoever it was knew I was beginning to ask questions.