Chapter 6 - THE WIFE WHO WENT TO WAR ALONE
The hearing took place in a federal building in Manhattan.
I wasn't invited.
Isabella's attorney made that clear.
"Mrs. Moretti does not wish to see you."
The words hurt.
But I accepted them.
For the first time in my adult life, I understood that having power didn't mean I was entitled to someone's presence.
I remained outside the hearing room with Rebecca.
Inside, Isabella provided testimony about Saint Catherine's.
She described the charitable funds.
The hidden patient records.
The transfers through companies connected to Marco Bellini and Carlo Russo.
And the threats she'd received after finding Lucia.
She also provided documents I'd never seen.
Not because she stole them.
Because she'd spent years supervising legitimate family charities and had lawful access to certain records.
She knew exactly where to look.
She'd always known.
I was the one who hadn't noticed.
Three hours later, she emerged.
My heart stopped.
She wore a navy dress.
No diamonds.
No wedding ring.
Her dark hair was tied back.
And she looked more beautiful than I remembered.
Not because she appeared happy.
She didn't.
She looked tired.
Grieving.
But determined.
Isabella saw me.
Stopped.
Then turned toward her attorney.
For a terrible second, I thought she'd walk away.
Instead, she approached.
"Dante."
Hearing my name in her voice nearly broke me.
"Isabella."
We stood three feet apart.
Once, I would've reached for her without asking.
Now I kept my hands at my sides.
"Are you safe?"
She nodded.
"For now."
"Lucia?"
"Receiving independent medical care."
Relief washed through me.
Then I swallowed.
"I'm sorry."
Her expression didn't change.
"For what?"
I stared.
She continued.
"The affair? The lies? The way you spoke to me? The nights you left me waiting? Or the fact that I had to disappear before you listened?"
Every word landed.
I didn't defend myself.
"All of it."
Her eyes filled.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then she said quietly, "I loved you for eleven years, Dante."
My throat tightened.
"I know."
"No. You knew I was there."
A tear slid down her cheek.
"That's different."
I couldn't answer.
Because she was right.
Then Isabella took a folded envelope from her handbag.
She handed it to me.
"What's this?"
"Divorce papers."
The world went silent.
I stared at the envelope.
"Isabella—"
"Don't."
Her voice trembled.
"Please don't make me fight you for the right to leave."
I closed my eyes.
For years, I had commanded men who feared disappointing me.
But the woman standing before me wasn't asking permission.
She was telling me her decision.
I nodded slowly.
"I won't fight you."
Her expression changed.
Surprise.
Then something like relief.
"Thank you."
She turned to leave.
I watched her walk away.
Then stopped myself from calling her back.
But before she reached the elevator, she turned.
"Dante?"
I looked up.
"Yes?"
"There's something else you need to know about Lucia."
My heart tightened.
"What?"
Isabella swallowed.
"She wasn't hidden only because of the money."
I stared.
"Then why?"
Her eyes filled.
"Because Lucia knows who killed your father."
May you like
And before the elevator doors closed, she added:
"It wasn't the man you spent twenty years hunting."
