Chapter 7 - THE WIFE WHO WANTED EVERYTHING
Camila appeared in the courtyard at 10:17.
She wore a cream-colored coat over a black dress.
Her hair was perfectly styled.
Her expression calm.
As if she were arriving at a charity gala rather than participating in the betrayal of her husband.
Lorenzo watched from the garage.
Santino stood beside her.
They spoke quietly.
Then Camila looked toward the windows.
She smiled.
Lorenzo's phone rang.
He answered.
"Darling," Camila said.
Her voice was warm.
Familiar.
Almost loving.
"You're making this unnecessarily difficult."
Lorenzo stared at her through the glass.
"Why?"
She sighed.
"Because you never understood what I wanted."
"Then explain."
"I wanted a life."
He almost laughed.
"You had one."
"No. I had your life."
Her voice hardened.
"Your rules. Your businesses. Your enemies. Your endless meetings."
Lorenzo swallowed.
"You could have left."
Camila laughed bitterly.
"And walked away with nothing?"
Silence.
She continued.
"I spent six years standing beside you while you built an empire."
"You married me knowing who I was."
"I married you believing I'd eventually have power."
Lorenzo closed his eyes.
There it was.
The truth.
Not love.
Not loyalty.
Power.
"And Santino?" he asked.
Camila glanced toward the man beside her.
Her voice softened.
"Santino understands me."
Lorenzo felt a familiar wound open.
But it didn't surprise him.
Not anymore.
He looked toward Isabella.
His daughter was sitting beside Sophie, holding a small stuffed owl.
He swallowed.
"Did you tamper with my medication?"
Camila went silent.
Then laughed softly.
"Don't be dramatic."
"Isabella saw you."
Another silence.
Camila's voice changed.
"That child needs to learn when to keep her mouth shut."
Lorenzo felt something inside him break.
"She's your daughter."
Camila replied:
"She's your daughter, Lorenzo. She was always yours first."
For six years, he'd tried to convince himself Camila loved Isabella in her own way.
Now he understood.
His daughter had spent years feeling unwanted because her mother had never learned to love anyone more than herself.
Lorenzo looked toward Sophie.
She was comforting Isabella.
Not because someone ordered her to.
Not because she expected payment.
But because the child was frightened.
He spoke into the phone.
"Camila."
"Yes?"
"You can have the divorce."
She laughed.
"How generous."
"But you won't have my daughter."
Her voice hardened.
"You don't get to decide that."
Lorenzo stared.
"Neither do you."
He ended the call.
Then he heard sirens.
Distant.
Approaching.
Santino turned sharply.
May you like
Camila's smile disappeared.
And Lorenzo realized the outside help he'd contacted was finally arriving.
