She Tore the Mafia Heiress’s Designer Coat Chapter 06

She Tore the Mafia Heiress’s Designer Coat Chapter 06

That night, I sat in the Moretti Group legal 

department’s conference room. Police reports and platform takedown notices synced to my 

computer one by one. The screen at the front of 

the room was split in two. On the left was the legal department’s file list. On the right was 

interview–room footage from the police department. 

On that screen, I watched Leah’s downfall unfold piece by piece. The interview–room lights stayed on past midnight. Leah sat in a bolted steel chair, her hands cuffed to the ring on the table. A few hours earlier, she had tried to make me clean her shoes for an audience. Now she had to ask an officer for permission to touch a phone. 

Her heavy makeup was ruined by tears. Black eyeliner smeared at the corners of her eyes. The 

heiress mask was gone. 

“I want to make a call. I want a lawyer,” she 

snapped at the officer across from her. 

The officer slid a phone toward her without 

changing expression. 

“You’ve got three minutes.” 

Leah grabbed the phone and dialed the owner of 

her influencer management agency. 

“Mr. Ryan, send a lawyer to save me!” 

The other end went silent for two seconds. Then a 

cold voice came through. 

“Leah, your contract has been terminated.” 

Leah froze. 

“Are you kidding me?” 

“I’m the biggest creator at this agency. I have 

millions of followers.” 

“Millions of followers?” 

Ryan gave a cold laugh. 

“Check your accounts.” 

“Ten minutes ago, every major platform 

suspended your accounts.” 

“Where do you think all those borrowed bags and 

rented diamonds came from?” 

“I used your ID and private photos to borrow money from lenders.” 

“Now Moretti Group is suing you, and those 

lenders are looking for your family.” 

“Get ready for the breach–of–contract penalty lawsuit.” 

The call ended. Leah’s hand started shaking. Refusing to believe it, she opened her social 

media app. Her name filled all ten of the top trending searches. 

“Fake heiress influencer Leah exposed.” 

“Full video of Leah humiliating the Moretti heir on livestream.” 

“Leah’s fake fiancée identity revealed.” 

To save himself, Lucas had posted a long statement from a burner account while he was 

being dragged back to the estate. He cut ties with her completely. He even released photos and chat records showing Leah drinking with men, chasing wealthy sponsors, and faking her upper–class life. The internet turned on her in real time. The same fans who once called her Queen Leah were now leading the attack. 

Leah scrolled in despair. Big tears fell onto the back of her hand. A massive penalty, lenders, a total platform ban, and criminal charges were all waiting for her. At last, she understood who she 

had offended. The worst part was, the Moretti 

name was only half the reason she was finished. 

She had livestreamed herself bullying someone she thought was powerless, and the internet had 

watched every second. She stared at the phone screen until it went dark. Then she went limp in 

the bolted steel chair. 

Chapter 7 

By the time I finished the last case file in legal, dawn was close. To save himself, Mark had turned over every dirty ledger behind the dealership. 

Before I left Moretti Group headquarters, I ordered 

my people to send every hidden ledger from the dealership to the estate. A few hours later, at 

sunrise, I was back at the Moretti estate. I wore a 

loose silk robe and stood in the garden, trimming rose branches. 

The house steward hurried over and spoke in 

low voice. 

“Mr. Grant, the owner of the luxury auto group, has been kneeling at the estate gates for two hours with cash and an apology.” 

I snipped off another thorn. 

“Let him in.” 

The gates opened. A heavyset middle–aged man half–ran, half–crawled into the garden, dragging two heavy locked cases with him. This was Grant, the man behind that luxury dealership. Grant dropped to one knee on the white–stone path. 

“Ms. Moretti, I didn’t know who I was dealing with.” 

“I failed to control my store.” 

He bowed his head and pushed the locked cases. 

toward me. 

“There’s twenty million in cash here. Please accept 

it as my apology.” 

“Give me one chance. Let my company survive.” 

I ignored him and trimmed another thorn. 

“Mr. Grant.” 

I set down the scissors and looked at him. 

“Your Manager Mark has already told the police. 

everything.” 

Grant shook from head to toe. 

“Your stores have been buying wrecked cars, 

refurbishing them, and selling them as new 

inventory.” 

“You also used two sets of contracts to hide 

taxable revenue.” 

picked up a document from the stone table and 

threw it at his face. 

“I’ve already sent this evidence to the tax 

authorities and state business regulators.” 

Grant’s face drained of color. He knew he was 

finished. 

“But I can be generous.” 

I picked up the scissors again. 

“This is a buyout agreement.” 

“The purchase price is one dollar.” 

“Every claim caused by your company’s fraudulent sales will become your personal responsibility.” 

Grant looked at the contract. His face went slack, 

like he might faint. 

“Sign it.” 

I looked at him without a trace of warmth. 

“Then take that debt to the street and start paying 

it back with a shine box if you have to.” 

“Didn’t your manager love making people clean shoes?” 

“From now on, you can start paying yours from a street corner.”