Chapter 3

I waited three days before making my first move.

Three days of watching Valentina parade through the estate like she owned it.

Three days of Lorenzo pretending everything was normal.

Three days of planning.

On Thursday morning, I accessed the Cayman accounts.

Forty-three million dollars, frozen with a single keystroke.

The Swiss accounts came next.

Then Singapore.

Then Luxembourg.

Not everything—that would be too obvious.

Just enough to make things uncomfortable.

Just enough to make them sweat.

My phone rang within two hours.

Lorenzo's accountant, panic in his voice.

"Mrs. De Luca, we have a situation—"

"I'm aware," I said calmly.

"The offshore accounts aren't responding to transfer requests. Did you change the access protocols?"

"Security measures. There have been concerns about unauthorized access."

"But Mr. De Luca needs to move funds for the Russo deal—"

"I'm sure he'll figure something out."

I hung up.

My assistant knocked. "Elena, there's another media inquiry about Mr. De Luca and Miss Russo."

"What are they asking?"

"If there's an official engagement. If you're aware of the relationship. If there will be a statement."

"Tell them we have no comment at this time."

"You don't want me to deny anything?"

"Why would I?"

She looked confused. "But the family reputation—"

"Is not my responsibility anymore."

After she left, I opened my news alerts.

Seventeen new articles about Lorenzo and Valentina.

Photos of them at dinner.

Speculation about a wedding.

Commentary about the "strategic merger."

Each story more detailed than the last.

I did nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

And watched it spread like poison.

My burner phone buzzed—Mr. Rosenberg.

"The papers are ready. When do you want to serve him?"

"Soon," I said. "I'm setting the stage first."

"The longer you wait—"

"The stronger my position becomes. Trust me."

That evening, the family elders called an emergency meeting.

This time, I was invited.

Lorenzo sat at the head of the table, looking tired.

Valentina sat beside him, playing the devoted partner.

I took my usual seat in the corner, quiet and observant.

"This media situation is unacceptable," Elder Giovanni said, his voice sharp. "Every outlet in the city is talking about our family's private affairs."

"It will die down," Lorenzo said.

"When? We look like a circus." Giovanni turned to me. "Elena, you usually handle these things. Why haven't you issued a statement?"

All eyes turned to me.

Lorenzo's gaze held a warning.

"I weighed the pros and cons before making this decision," I said, meeting his stare.

His face went pale.

Those were his exact words to me two months ago when he'd closed down my charity project without consulting me.

"What decision?" Giovanni demanded.

"To let the truth speak for itself."

"The truth?" Valentina leaned forward, all false concern. "What truth would that be?"

"That Lorenzo is building an alliance with your family. Isn't that what this is about?"

"It's more than business—" she started.

"Is it?" I tilted my head. "I wouldn't know. I'm just the accountant."

The room fell silent.

Lorenzo's jaw clenched.

"We need damage control," another elder said. "Our stock price dropped three percent this week."

"That's unfortunate," I said.

"Unfortunate?" Giovanni's voice rose. "This is your job, Elena. What are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing at anything." I stood, gathering my tablet. "If you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

"Sit down," Lorenzo ordered.

I paused. "I'm sorry?"

"We're not finished."

"I am."

I walked out before he could respond.

In the hallway, my heels clicked against marble.

Powerful.

Purposeful.

Free.

I made it to my office before Lorenzo caught up.

He slammed the door behind him.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded.

"A meeting. You're familiar with those, right? Though I'm rarely invited anymore."

"Don't play games with me, Elena."

"I'm not." I opened my desk drawer, pulled out a manila envelope. "I'm being very direct, actually."

"What is that?"

I placed it on the desk between us.

"Divorce papers."

The color drained from his face.

"You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

He stared at the envelope like it might bite him. "This is because of Valentina. Elena, I told you, it's just—"

"For the family. Yes, you mentioned that." I sat down, perfectly composed. "So is this."

"You can't be serious."

"Sign them, Lorenzo. Or don't. Either way, I'm done."

"Done?" He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You can't just leave. You're part of this family."

"No," I said quietly. "I was never part of this family. I was just useful."

"That's not true—"

"Isn't it? When's the last time you introduced me as your wife? When's the last time I was included in a decision? When's the last time you chose me over your 'strategic interests'?"

He had no answer.

"That's what I thought." I gestured to the papers. "You have seventy-two hours to review them. My attorney will be in touch."

"Elena, wait—"

"I'm not waiting anymore."

He reached for me, but I stepped back.

"Don't," I said. "Don't touch me. Don't apologize. Don't make promises you won't keep."

"I can fix this."

"There's nothing to fix. It's already broken."

I walked past him to the door.

His voice stopped me. "You're really going to do this? Destroy everything we built?"

I looked back at him.

This man I'd loved.

This man I'd saved.

This man who'd thrown me away for a strategic alliance.

"You destroyed it first," I said. "I'm just cleaning up the mess."

"The accounts—the frozen funds—that was you."

"Yes."

"You're sabotaging the family."

"I'm protecting my assets. There's a difference."

His face hardened, the Lorenzo I recognized disappearing behind cold calculation.

"You'll regret this."

"I already regret five years of my life," I said. "What's one more threat?"

I left him standing in my office.

In the hallway, Valentina was waiting, obviously having listened to everything.

"Feel better?" she asked, smiling.

"Actually, yes."

"You know you can't win this, right? He'll never sign those papers. The family will never let you leave."

"We'll see."

"Poor Elena." She stepped closer, her voice dropping. "You really thought he loved you, didn't you?"

Something inside me went very still.

Very cold.

"No," I said softly. "I thought I loved him. That was my mistake."

I walked away, leaving her with that.

In my car, I finally let myself breathe.

My hands were shaking.

Not from fear.

From adrenaline.

From power.

I'd just declared war on the most dangerous family in the city.

And I was going to win.

My phone buzzed—Mr. Rosenberg.

"I heard the elders are unhappy. That's good."

"How did you—"

"I have sources. Elena, there's something you should know. Giovanni is meeting with the Russo family tomorrow. Without Lorenzo."

My blood went cold.

"What does that mean?"

"It means the old guard is nervous. They're exploring options."

"Options?"

"Removing Lorenzo from succession. If your divorce damages the family badly enough, they might cut him loose entirely."

I closed my eyes.

That wasn't part of the plan.

Or was it?

"Keep monitoring," I said.

"Elena, be careful. When families like this fracture, people die."

"I know."

I hung up and stared at the De Luca estate in my rearview mirror.

Lights blazed in every window.

Emergency meetings, no doubt.

Panic spreading through the ranks.

All because I'd finally stopped being silent.

My phone rang again—Lorenzo.

I sent it to voicemail.

Then I drove away from the only home I'd known for five years.

And I didn't look back once.