Chapter 137: Mark got exposed

Kieran:

“I'll tell you right now, Mom, if I eat another bite, I'm going to throw up."

Alina's complaint echoed across the dining room while Mom looked at her with the same stubborn determination she had used on me for weeks after I came home from the hospital.

It was the expression of a woman who had already made up her mind and wasn't interested in hearing arguments.

"You said that three bites ago."

"Because I was already feeling sick three bites ago." Alina complained like a child.

Mom pushed the plate back toward her without the slightest intention of surrendering.

"And yet somehow you're still finding enough energy to argue."

I lowered my coffee cup and shook my head, trying unsuccessfully to hide my smile.

Across the table, Emma had completely abandoned any attempt at pretending to be neutral. She was openly entertained by the exchange, while Dad looked just as invested in the outcome as if he were watching a championship match rather than a pregnant woman arguing with her mother-in-law over breakfast.

The sight was ridiculous.

And strangely enough, it was one of my favorite parts of the day.

Over the last two months, scenes like this had become common inside the mansion.

Alina glared suspiciously at the plate in front of her.

"I'm pregnant, Mom. Not preparing for hibernation."

Mom folded her arms.

"Considering how little you've eaten this morning, I'm beginning to think hibernation would be an improvement."

Emma laughed so hard she nearly spilled her tea.

Alina looked personally betrayed by the lack of support around the table.

"I hope everyone here knows that I'm being bullied."

"You are being fed," Mom corrected.

"There is a difference."

I finally gave up trying not to laugh.

The moment the sound escaped me, Alina's eyes immediately snapped toward me.

The expression on her face made me raise both hands in surrender.

"Don't look at me. I learned a long time ago not to get involved when Mom decides somebody needs feeding."

"You're supposed to be on my side."

"I am on your side."

"Clearly not."

That earned another round of laughter from everyone at the table.

For a few moments, I simply sat there watching them.

The warmth filling the room felt almost unreal sometimes.

For years I had convinced myself that certain things were gone forever. Family breakfasts. Meaningless arguments. The comfort of knowing the people I loved were sitting only a few feet away from me, healthy and safe.

Now all of those things surrounded me.

Dad had practically become a permanent resident of the mansion after our reconciliation. Mom spent half her day worrying about me and the other half worrying about Alina. Emma came and went so often that nobody bothered treating her like a staff anymore.

And Alina...

My gaze settled on her again.

She was still muttering complaints under her breath while absentmindedly resting a hand over her stomach.

The sight never failed to affect me.

Every time I looked at her, I remembered how close I had come to losing all of this.

Two months had passed since she signed the inheritance over to Mark.

Two months had passed since I walked away from Yellow label Entertainment and ended my contract for good.

Outwardly, life had settled into something peaceful.

My recovery was progressing well. The doctors were satisfied. Alina and the baby were healthy. The constant fear that had followed us after the shooting had slowly begun to fade.

Anyone looking at our lives from the outside would have assumed the worst was behind us.

I wished I could believe that myself.

The truth was that I had never truly let the matter go.

Every time my fingers brushed against the scars on my chest, I remembered the gunfire.

I remembered the hospital.

I remembered the helpless feeling of waking up and learning how close I had come to dying.

Most of all, I remembered Leo.

I remembered him throwing himself in front of me without hesitation.

I remembered the blood.

The surgeries.

The endless hours of uncertainty.

The wheelchair now sat beside his bed while he fought through rehabilitation.

Mark had gotten his property.

That didn't erase any of it.

Some debts couldn't be settled through legal documents.

Some things demanded a different ending.

Which was precisely why Vocenzo and I had spent the last two months quietly building something that Mark never saw coming.

The television mounted on the wall flickered to life when Emma picked up the remote while the argument over breakfast continued.

Nobody paid much attention initially.

The room was too comfortable.

Too relaxed.

Then a bright red banner appeared across the screen.

BREAKING NEWS

The anchor's voice immediately cut through the room.

"We interrupt our scheduled programming with major developments involving Yellow Labels Entertainment and its chairman, Mark Henderson."

Every conversation stopped.

The change in atmosphere was so immediate that it felt almost physical.

Mom slowly lowered her spoon.

Dad's expression hardened.

Emma straightened in her chair.

Beside me, Alina went completely still.

The screen switched to live footage.

Police vehicles surrounded Yellow Label Entertainment's headquarters.

Investigators moved through the building carrying computers, files, and boxes filled with evidence.

Reporters crowded behind security barriers while cameras flashed relentlessly.

The scene looked less like an investigation and more like the collapse of an empire.

"Oh my God," Emma whispered.

The reporter continued speaking.

"Authorities from multiple agencies conducted coordinated raids this morning following an extensive investigation into allegations of money laundering, financial fraud, human trafficking, and organized criminal activity."

Alina's fingers tightened around mine.

I could feel the shock moving through her.

Then the camera focused on the front entrance.

Mark appeared.

The room fell silent.

For years I had known him as a man who controlled every situation around him.

He knew how to manipulate people.

How to influence investors.

How to command attention.

How to maintain the image he wanted the world to see.

Today that image was crumbling in front of millions.

Several officers surrounded him while investigators continued entering and leaving the building.

Reporters shouted questions from every direction.

For the first time, Mark looked genuinely powerless.

The sight should have satisfied me.

I felt immediate relief. Because maybe he couldn't hurt anyone else after today.

"I knew he was greedy."

Alina's voice was barely above a whisper.

Everyone looked at her. Tears had already gathered in her eyes.

"I knew he cared more about money than people."

She stared at the screen.

"But this is something else."

Her voice trembled.

"H-human trafficking?? This is evil."

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders immediately.

She leaned into me.

For a few moments, nobody spoke.

The television continued broadcasting details about

Former trainees, witness statements, financial records. Shell corporations.

The deeper the report went, the uglier the truth became.

Alina closed her eyes.

"I spent years wondering why I wasn't enough for him."

The confession made my chest tighten.

She laughed bitterly.

"I thought maybe if I tried harder, he would love me."

Nobody interrupted her.

Nobody could……

Because there was nothing anyone could say to undo years of pain.

"I kept blaming myself."

A tear slipped down her cheek.

"When the truth is that he never wanted a daughter."

Her voice broke.

"He wanted an inheritance."

I pulled her closer.

She buried her face against my shoulder.

And as I held her, my mind drifted back to the conversation that had started all of this.

Three days after the property transfer.

Three days after Mark walked away believing he had won.

Three days after he unknowingly signed his own downfall.

Vocenzo entered my study carrying a thick black folder.

The moment I saw his expression, I knew this wasn't an ordinary update.

He dropped the folder onto my desk and sat across from me.

For several seconds, he simply watched me.

Then he nodded toward the folder.

"Open it."

I did.

Within moments, my expression darkened.

The folder contained thousands of pages.

Financial records.Corporate structures. Bank statements. Transaction histories. Offshore accounts. Evidence.

A staggering amount of evidence.

I looked up.

"Where did all of this come from?"

"The source." Vocenzo shrugged and I understood who he was talking about.

I leaned back.

"The same source you've been using?"

Vocenzo nodded.

"Only this time he got access to everything."

Then he explained exactly how Mark's empire had been built on lies, corruption, exploitation, and crimes that were finally about to come crashing down around him.

And before that conversation ended, an ugly thought had crossed my mind.

If he was slow poisoning his own trainees and witnesses to get rid of them…..what were the odds that he would have not done that to someone who owned the very inheritance?

“What about Lily Vocenzo?” I interrupted to whatever he was saying about the lawyers and their fees. He gave me a deep look.

“The source is still digging deeper.” He sighed and fixed his coat. “But all the indicators are going South. I would advice you to be ready to hear anything worse.”