Chapter 3 - THE MISTRESS WHO DISAPPEARED
Dante Moretti had never sounded afraid before.
Angry, yes.
Dangerous, frequently.
But afraid?
Never.
Now his voice carried a tension I couldn't ignore.
“What do you mean Isabella is missing?” I asked.
“She left the celebration after midnight. Her driver found her car abandoned near the river.”
“Maybe she decided to leave you.”
“Sophia.”
I hated the way he said my name.
Like we were still husband and wife.
Like the divorce papers hadn't been placed on my hospital bed while I was struggling to breathe.
“Don't call me unless it's about the children,” I said.
“It is about the children.”
“Then speak to my attorney.”
I ended the call.
Luca watched me carefully.
“What did he say?”
“Carlo ordered someone to intercept the transfer. Isabella has disappeared.”
Luca's face hardened.
“Then Carlo knows the babies are out of his reach.”
“Why would Isabella disappear?”
“Because people who know too much become liabilities.”
I looked at my brother.
“You're talking like one of them.”
His expression changed.
“I spent seven years learning how to survive them.”
I wanted to ask what those years had done to him.
But before I could, Emma entered.
“Grace is doing well,” she said. “Oliver's oxygen support has been reduced. Benjamin is stable, and Lily is responding to treatment.”
My eyes filled.
For the first time since giving birth, I had real information about my children.
Not vague reassurances from a husband who wanted me gone.
Not promises about expensive nurses.
Actual medical updates.
“Can I see them?”
Emma smiled.
“As soon as Dr. Foster clears you.”
By afternoon, I was wheeled into the nursery.
Four tiny lives rested inside their incubators.
Grace had Dante's dark hair.
Oliver had my nose.
Benjamin's fingers curled whenever someone touched his blanket.
And Lily, our smallest, opened her eyes when I whispered her name.
I cried then.
Not because of Dante.
Not because of Isabella.
Because I was alive.
And so were they.
“I'll never let anyone make you feel unwanted,” I promised them.
That evening, Rebecca Sloan arrived with news.
“The emergency order remains in effect,” she said. “The court has appointed a temporary guardian ad litem to represent the children's interests. Both parents will have an opportunity to present evidence.”
“Can Dante take them?”
“Not simply because he has money or influence. He can seek custody, but the court will examine their safety and medical needs.”
I exhaled.
Rebecca sat opposite me.
“There's something else.”
I was beginning to hate those words.
“Your divorce documents aren't what Dante told you they were.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“The papers you signed are an agreement proposing financial terms. They do not instantly dissolve your marriage. And the custody provisions are unenforceable without judicial review.”
“So I'm still married?”
“Legally, yes.”
I stared at the ceiling.
Of all the things I had survived in twenty-four hours, that seemed particularly cruel.
Rebecca continued.
“More importantly, the seventy-million-dollar check was drawn from a holding company controlled by Carlo Moretti.”
I looked at her.
“Not Dante?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“We're investigating.”
A knock sounded.
Luca opened the door.
A woman stood outside wearing a gray coat.
She was middle-aged, pale, and visibly frightened.
“Mrs. Moretti?” she whispered.
I nodded.
“My name is Teresa Russo.”
I recognized the surname.
“Isabella's family?”
“Her mother.”
Luca immediately stepped between us.
“What do you want?”
Teresa looked past him.
“My daughter sent me a message before she disappeared.”
She held up her phone.
On the screen was a photograph of Isabella standing in a room full of security monitors.
Beneath it were six words.
SOPHIA WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE.
My blood went cold.
Teresa began crying.
“She told me if anything happened to her, I had to find you.”
“Why?”
“Because Isabella wasn't the woman your husband was having an affair with.”
I stared at her.
“That doesn't make sense.”
May you like
Teresa swallowed.
“She was the woman Carlo paid to make you believe he was.”
