My Husband Called Me a Scullery Maid at His Sect Promotion Banquet — Then I Walked In as the Secret Owner of the Entire $12 Million Religious Compound
Eli stood frozen, caught between raging at Tobias and trying to maintain his authoritative facade before the Elders. The Elders, for their part, were visibly disturbed by the new ledger entry. An untraceable draft to an unknown external recipient was a serious breach of New Gilead’s strict financial rules.
Elder Amos picked up the ledger page. His brow furrowed as he read the “External Seed Fund” notation.
“Overseer Eli,” Elder Amos said, his voice quiet but firm, “can you explain this transfer? To whom was this 45,000 NGD sent, and for what purpose?”
Eli stammered, his carefully constructed composure finally cracking. “It was… a charitable contribution. To a struggling sister community. Confidential. For the greater good of the faith.”
“A struggling sister community with an untraceable account number?” Elder Silas interjected, surprising everyone. His face was still pale, but his voice had a new edge. “And no mention of it in any of the communal minutes?”
Eli glared at Silas, a silent threat passing between them. Silas, however, held his gaze. My earlier confrontation with the Magistrate had clearly shaken him more deeply than Eli realized. The thought of his own bribe being exposed was a powerful motivator.
“And regarding Overseer Eli’s petition against Sister Hannah,” Silas continued, turning to the other Elders. “There is a matter that must be considered before any judgment can be made.”
Eli’s eyes narrowed. “Magistrate, what is your meaning? This is a clear case of…”
“It is not so clear, Overseer,” Silas interrupted, a subtle but significant shift in his tone. “I have recently been made aware of a legal instrument executed by Elder Josiah just prior to his passing.”
He looked at me, a quick, almost imperceptible nod. He was fulfilling his part of our unspoken agreement from the corridor, betraying Eli to save himself.
“Elder Josiah,” Silas announced to the Council, “in his wisdom and foresight, designated Sister Hannah with complete legal power of attorney over all council bank accounts and the Founder’s Trust. This was done a week before his passing, with my full knowledge and notarization.”
The room erupted in whispers. Eli’s jaw went slack. The Elders, who moments ago were considering declaring me incompetent, now looked at me with a mixture of shock and dawning comprehension.
“Power of attorney?” Elder Amos repeated, his eyes wide. “Over *all* council bank accounts?”
“Indeed,” Silas confirmed, pulling a folded document from his robe. “Including the authority to oversee all financial disbursements from the communal tithes and any assets held within the Founder’s Trust. It is all documented here, duly signed and witnessed.”
He handed the document to Elder Amos. The implications were immense. Eli had just presented a petition to strip me of my rights, completely unaware that I already held the ultimate financial authority within the enclave. My father had set this up as the ultimate contingency.
Eli’s face was a study in incredulity and dawning horror. He knew he had been outmaneuvered. He had tried to seize control by declaring me unstable, but my father had quietly handed me the reins before he even knew he was being betrayed.
“This changes everything,” Elder Amos murmured, his gaze traveling from the document to my calm face.
The petition against my “incompetence” now seemed a cruel, ill-informed joke. The “shadow council,” as it were, had already spoken, and its will was my father’s.
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