The New HR Called Me a Thief

Realization dawned on me then.

Everyone here knew I wasn't some useless, thieving janitor, but they simply didn't care. This wasn't a meeting to discuss rules and regulations either. It was a political trap set specifically for me.

Elena wanted to force me out so she could take my place, while Matteo wanted my shares before Gotti Group went public, and the other members simply wanted a share of the spoils.

If that was the case, I didn't mind playing along for their amusement.

"Fine. 350,000 dollars, sì? I'll pay."

I pulled out a bank card.

"This account holds every dividend Gotti Group has ever paid me. In five years, the company went from nothing to an arms dealer about to go public. The profits and dividends should be more than 350,000 dollars, shouldn't they?

"Didn't Elena say I live on the pittance you give me? Then check it and see if I have ever spent a single cent from it!"

The color drained from Matteo's face in an instant.

A busybody snatched my card to run a check, discovering that even the password was still set to the factory default.

"Is this Valentina's first time logging into this account? How is that possible?"

I smiled.

I was the Donna behind the Caruso family. I controlled 80% of San Vestaro's commercial territory and ports. The annual profits of one small-time arms dealer meant nothing to me, and the dividends meant even less.

However, once the inquiry page loaded, everyone was shocked.

The balance was a big, glaring zero.

My brows pulled together.

"Ha, zero! And here I thought you were so noble! You spent every single cent of the dividends in the account, yet you still brag about paying us back! You have a massive problem, Valentina. And you're still being so stubborn! You deserve to be kicked out!"

Elena, believing she had caught me red-handed, mocked me relentlessly, not realizing that every word out of her mouth was about to become leverage against Matteo.

"I'd love to know exactly who has a problem here," I sneered, looking directly at Matteo, whose face had gone deathly pale. "Matteo, since you took over, the group's debts have been paid off, and net profit has risen every year. So, where are my dividends?"

Matteo swallowed hard.

"We're in the arms business. The profits may look good on paper, but behind the scenes, the expenses to smooth things over with the politicians and other families are even higher. We've been losing money every year. Dividends were out of the question!"

I nearly laughed.

Politicians and other families?

Had they not agreed to work with the Gotti family precisely because they knew my identity and status? Since when did he ever need to spend money to grease their palms?

Realizing I had gone silent, Matteo instantly put on a smile, feigning comfort.

"Don't worry, Valentina. I know you can't pay the money back. Just surrender your shares to give our partners an explanation. Once we go public, I'll restore your reputation and your position."

He handed me a share transfer agreement. "Until then, just focus on watering the flowers and wiping down the piano. Leave the orders to me, and the trivial matters to Elena."

"Fine."

I slowly stood and nodded calmly. "Since you care so much about your partners and going public, I'll agree to your terms."

A flicker of greed and delight flashed across Matteo's and Elena's eyes.

I looked at the wisteria, remembering another piece of advice Madre had once told me.

She said that when dealing with the ungrateful who didn't know their own limitations, one must be ruthless.

"I hope…" I began with a smile as I signed the agreement and handed it over. "You get exactly what you want."

…

The next morning, I came to the garden as usual to care for the wisteria Madre had left behind and wipe down the piano.

Elena, dressed in a Chanel suit, strode in arrogantly on high heels, followed by several renovation workers.

"Look at these outdated, overpriced rugs and decorations. This, this, and this. Rip them all out!"

She pointed at the main entrance, the corridor, and the reception parlor that I had painstakingly arranged, her eyebrows furrowing in disgust.

"We're about to secure the shipping permit for the largest port in the city. Every capo will be lining up to place orders with us. The reception parlor needs to be simple, clean, and efficient. It should look like a major corporation, not some yacht club from the 90s!"

The members all crowded around, showering Elena with praise and agreement.

"The largest port in San Vestaro? As expected of a top business school graduate. You've pulled off something massive the moment you arrived!"

"Once we get that shipping permit, our profits will multiply several times over. We'll be able to go public in no time!"

I let out a scoff, ignoring them as I continued watering the flowers.

"Of course," Elena said.

She arched an eyebrow at me, walking over to the piano with her arms crossed, a look of pure defiance on her face.

"Once we go public, every corner of this place will need to be cleaned up. All the old, useless garbage will be thrown right out! Especially that outdated plant and this crappy piano!"

I stopped what I was doing, lifted my head, and looked at her coldly.

"Try me."

Elena seemed startled, freezing for a few seconds before remembering to turn and leave. As she stormed off, she even pulled out her phone and filmed a vlog.

"First day on the promotion, and I already cleaned out a bunch of trash! So exhausting! Here's to hoping hard work pays off with good results! #FemaleVP #GirlPower #MajorOverhaul."

Five minutes later, I laughed at her new Instagram post before making a call.

"Stop the issuance of Gotti Group's shipping permit."

I didn't allow fools to dock at my port, and I certainly hoped Elena would enjoy the results of all her hard work.