Chapter 4 - The Audit of an EmpireWith only three weeks remaining before her departure, Isabella accelerated her quiet dismantling of her ties to the Moretti family.
She resigned as active chairperson of the Moretti Foundation, handing over complete administrative control to a board of trustees she personally vetted and appointed, ensuring that Dante’s syndicate could never weaponize the charity's assets after she was gone. She donated her massive collection of high-end jewelry—gifts from Dante accumulated over eleven years of anniversaries and birthdays—to a women’s shelter in downtown Chicago, leaving only her grandmother’s simple pearl earrings in her jewelry box.
Meanwhile, Dante was becoming increasingly reckless.
His obsession with Vivien Cross had moved from private dinners to high-profile public appearances. Local gossip columns had begun dropping thinly veiled hints about the re-emergence of the "Cross-Moretti alliance," speculating about a potential high-society divorce.
Dante didn't care. He believed he was invincible. He assumed Isabella was too entrenched in the luxury of her lifestyle, too docile and dependent, to ever walk away.
It was a Tuesday afternoon when the final piece of Isabella’s puzzle fell into place.
She was in Dante’s home study, ostensibly looking for a tax document for the accountant. She unlocked his bottom desk drawer using a small brass key she had copied three weeks prior.
Inside lay a thick manila folder labeled Project Cross.
Isabella opened it. Her breath caught.
It wasn't just old romance. It was a massive financial and territorial merger between Moretti Logistics and the Cross Shipping Conglomerate—a deal that would effectively give Vivien’s family controlling shares in the Chicago port terminals, compromising the very foundation of Dante’s empire. And right there, attached to the contract, was a draft of a legal separation agreement, already drawn up by Dante’s corporate lawyers, dividing their marital assets.
Dante hadn't just been cheating on her; he had already engineered her erasure from his life on paper. He was simply waiting for the right moment to hand her the papers and tell her to pack her bags.
Isabella closed the folder, slid it back into the drawer, and locked it.
She didn't feel rage. She felt a profound, liberating clarity.
He was going to throw me away, she thought calmly. He just didn't realize I was already gone.
She walked out of the study, packed her remaining personal books into a donation box, and drove to O'Hare International Airport to confirm her first-class flight to London.
May you like
Two weeks.
The countdown had entered its final phase.
