Novel His Body Craved Mine, His Heart Chose Me

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My marriage to Dante Moretti shocked everyone.

Ive got a fiery temper and I dont back down. Three years into our marriage, the entire Chicago underworld knew we were at each other's throats.

Except in bed.

There, our bodies just fit. The only time we weren't at war was when we were tangled in the sheets, lost in a storm of desperate kisses and raw pleasure.

Countless times, hed tell me he was obsessed with my body, always right as he was sinking into me.

I thought it was his way of saying he was falling for me.

That all came crashing down at an auction, when he snatched my mother's heirloom from me, only to give it to hera fragile-looking girl named Ava.

Thats when he showed me a cruelty Id never seen.

"It's time for a reality check, Elara," hed said, his voice cold as ice. "Marrying you, fucking you it was all just to keep the peace between our families. Ava is the one I want to protect."

But the day I finally left Chicago, the day I announced our divorce to the world

That cold, calculating Mafia Don hunted for me like a man possessed.

Chapter 1

Three years of marriage. We fought constantly, and we fucked like our lives depended on it. I thought that was just our thing. Until he told me his heart had belonged to someone else all along.

"Is that all you've got?"

I gasped for air, sweat slicking my back as the man beneath me gave one last, final thrust. Dantes hands dug into my hips, hard enough to leave bruises.

This was us. Even in bed, it was a battle.

A low chuckle vibrated through his chest. He pushed deeper, his lips brushing against my ear. "You always talk a big game, Elarabut your body never lies."

I bit my lip, refusing to let a moan escape. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

But Dante knew my body like the back of his hand. He knew every sensitive spot.

He trailed soft kisses along my neck, a stark contrast to the brutal, perfect rhythm of his hips slamming into me.

Until we both shattered.

I couldn't stop myself from digging my nails into his broad, powerful back.

"Satisfied, Elara?" Dante pulled away and slipped on his shirt. As usual, he grabbed a damp towel to clean me up.

It was the only time he was ever tender.

I forced the blush from my cheeks and shot him a defiant smirk. "Barely. You were adequate."

His movements paused. A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes.

"Guess I'll have to try harder next time."

"I'm going to the underground auction tonight," I said, getting up to dress. I made my voice sound casual, bored. "There's something I have to get."

"What is it?"

"My mother's brooch." My voice trembled slightly, but I hid it. "The diamond one."

It was the last thing she left me. Lost three years ago during a family clash, and it had finally resurfaced on the black market.

Dante fastened his cufflinks, his tone indifferent. "If you don't win it, I'll buy you something else to make up for it."

My heart skipped a beat. A warmth spread through my chest.

Was that concern?

Maybe. Maybe he wasn't completely heartless.

The auction was held in an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city. Dim lights cut through the gloom, illuminating the faces of the city's most dangerous players. Dressed in a black gown, I sat in a corner, waiting.

"Next up, a 19th-century diamond brooch. Bidding starts at five hundred thousand."

The auctioneer's voice echoed. My palms started to sweat.

"Six hundred thousand!"

"Seven hundred!"

"One million!"

I raised my paddle. "One and a half million," I said, my voice clear.

The room fell silent. That price was far beyond the brooch's actual worth.

I thought it was mine.

Then I saw him. Dante. And next to him stood a delicate-looking girl.

She sighed. Oh my god, that brooch is beautiful. I wonder who will be lucky enough to own it. Someone like me, with my background I could never be worthy of something like that.

She looked down, the picture of heartbroken innocence.

I saw Dantes eyes flick to me.

There was no surprise in his gaze, just a cold, calculating calm.

"Two million," he said, raising his hand. His voice was low and powerful.

My blood ran cold.

"Dante, what are you doing?" I shot to my feet, my voice shaking.

He ignored me and raised his paddle again. "Three million."

No one else dared to bid against the heir to the Moretti family.

I gritted my teeth. "Four million."

Dante didnt even look at me. "Five million."

"Sold!"

The auctioneers gavel fell like a hammer blow to my heart.

I watched, paralyzed, as Dante walked on stage and took the brooch. The pink diamond glittered under the lights. It had been my mother's favorite.

Then, he turned and pinned it to her chest.

His voice was softer than I'd ever heard it. "If you want it, who would dare say you're not worthy?"

The girl, Ava, beamed. "Dante, you're so good to me."

She glanced at me, and I saw the triumph in her eyes. "But... isn't this Miss Elara's mother's brooch...?"

Dante finally looked at me. "Ava loves it. Be generous and let her have it. I'll compensate you with anything else you want."

Compensate me?

As if money could replace my mother's memory.

This cold man couldn't be the same one who had held me in his arms an hour ago.

I forced the words through clenched teeth. "I don't want anything else. I want my mother's brooch."

Dante's expression turned to ice. He spoke the words that plunged me into hell.

"Don't forget what this marriage is, Elara. It's a deal. Nothing more. Ava is different. She's the one I'll spend my life protecting."

I trembled. Spend your life protecting What do you mean?

I love Ava. She's the one I truly want to marry Elara, dont look so heartbroken. We never had feelings for each other, did we? I'll still play the part of a good husband, as long as you don't interfere with me and Ava.

Chapter 2

I didn't cry as I walked out of the auction house, but my chest felt like a gaping black hole.

My mind was a loop of Dante's words as I stumbled down the stairs.

Just then, a young man in a waiter's uniform rushed past, a tray in his hands. He slammed his shoulder into me.

"Ah!"

I shrieked as I lost my balance and tumbled down the stairs.

A dull thud shot through my back, followed by a sharp cramp in my stomach.

I lay on the cold ground, my vision blurring. Through the haze, I thought I saw Dante bursting through the doors.

On the other side of the room, Ava cried out and sank to the floor, clutching her ankle. "Dante my ankle it hurts so much"

I saw Dante's gaze whip between us. He hesitated for only a second before striding toward Ava.

"Damn it, how could you be so clumsy?" He scooped her up, his voice tight with worry. "I'm taking you to the hospital." He didn't even glance back as he left.

Beneath me, a warm pool of liquid was spreading, staining the white marble red.

"Ma'am! Ma'am, you're bleeding!" a server screamed.

Then, everything went black.

I woke up in the hospital, a sharp pain still tearing at my abdomen.

Dante stood by my bed, his expression a mix of pity and something I couldn't read. "Elara, you were pregnant."

"What?" I couldn't believe it.

I had once dreamed of having a child with Dante. But of course, it had to happen now, after I knew he didn't love me.

And the worst part

You lost the baby. The fall was too severe.

"No, no" I could barely breathe. "There has to be a way, Dante. You have to save our baby."

I grabbed his hand, my grip desperate.

But he just shook his head, his voice cold. You need to accept it. Maybe this baby was never meant to be.

He turned to the door. "Doctor, take her for the procedure."

"I don't want to"

Doctors and nurses swarmed in, holding down my arms and legs.

Dante just watched, a bystander to my struggle.

I knew then. He didn't love me, so he felt nothing for our child.

I was awake for the whole thing.

I felt something being taken from my body.

When I came to, Dante was still in the room.

I just stared at him in silence.

He stepped forward, reaching out as if to wipe the sweat from my brow.

I turned my head away.

It was the first time his touch felt revolting.

His voice was quiet. "The doctor said the surgery was a success."

Success? Succeeded in killing our child?

"I've dealt with the man who bumped into you. As compensation, I can cede the North District's turf to the Romano family," he continued. "It's worth a billion. That should be enough to cover this loss."

"I don't want your territory." My voice was a raw whisper. "I just want you to answer one question."

"What?"

"When I was hurt, why did you choose Ava?" I stared into his eyes. "Aren't I your wife?"

Dante froze, and then his face hardened.

"So that's what this is about." He dropped my hand. "It was an accident, Elara. Ava is fragile, she needs to be taken care of. If you're still not satisfied, I can add to the compensation."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips, a tribute to the child Id lost.

A child who was clearly less important than that girl's ankle.

"Be rational, Elara," Dante said, standing up and adjusting his cuffs. "Our marriage is a political alliance. Let's not complicate it with emotions."

He paused at the door. "And one more thing. I want you to keep the pregnancy quiet. Marrying you already hurt Ava. If she knew you were pregnant, she would be devastated."

So that was his real goal.

I smiled, a dead, empty smile. "As you wish."

"Fine," I whispered, turning my face to the wall. "Just go."

Dante frowned but finally turned and walked toward the door.

"I'll have the best doctors and nurses sent to look after you. Get some rest."

As he stepped out, I heard him speak into his phone, his voice suddenly soft. "Ava? What is it, baby? Don't cry, I'm on my way"

A week later, I was discharged.

For seven days, Dante never showed up. A nurse mentioned that someone sent the best food and fresh flowers every day, but it was never him.

I knew what he was busy with. Busy comforting his Ava, busy giving her all the tenderness I had craved.

The mansion was the same: cold and opulent.

I pushed open the door to Dante's study.

This was his sanctuary, filled with his collection of antiques and art. Trophies on the shelves, photos with politicians on the walls.

And our wedding photo.

In the picture, I was radiant in a white gown, smiling brightly. Dante, in his sharp suit, looked impassive, but he at least played the part of a dutiful husband.

We looked so perfect.

It was all a lie.

I grabbed a crystal vase from his desk and hurled it at the bookshelf with all my might. The shattering sound echoed in the silent room.

Then another. And another.

I destroyed every one of his precious collectibles, tore every photo from the wall. Finally, I stood before our wedding portrait, staring at the naive girl in the picture.

"You're such a fool, Elara," I whispered to the bride, before ripping the photo to shreds.

Chapter 3

The wreckage in the study was still on the floor when my phone buzzed.

A text from Dante.

"Done with your tantrum? I'll have someone replace everything. This ends now."

This ends now?

I stared at the words, a wave of dizzying absurdity washing over me. I lost our baby, I destroyed his study, and to him, it was just a tantrum that needed to "end"?

My phone trembled in my hand. Not from anger, but from absolute despair.

And just like that, my heart was dead. Stabbed, the knife pulled out, leaving a gaping hole that would never heal.

I dialed the Romano family lawyer.

"Mr. Peterson, it's Elara. I need you to draw up divorce papers."

There was a pause on the other end.

"Ma'am, are you certain? This could impact the business alliance between the two families"

"I'm certain," I said, my voice so calm it was chilling. "As fast as you can."

"And... regarding the division of assets? The prenuptial agreement states that if you initiate the divorce"

"Follow the prenup to the letter," I cut him off. "The house, the cars, the sharesI don't want an extra dime. All I want is my freedom."

Peterson was clearly shocked, but he was a professional. He didn't ask any more questions.

"Very well, Mrs. Moretti. I'll have the documents prepared immediately."

I hung up and walked into our bedroom. Or rather, my bedroom. Dante rarely slept here. Even when he did, it was just to fulfill his husbandly duties before retreating to the guest room.

I opened the closet and started packing.

After three years of marriage, I had so little to show for it. Most of my things were what I'd brought with me from the Romano estate.

Good. It would make leaving that much easier.

Dante came home at ten.

I was waiting for him on the living room sofa. Three copies of the divorce agreement were laid out neatly on the coffee table.

He walked in and froze when he saw the documents.

"What is this?"

"Divorce papers," I said, gesturing to the table. "Just sign."

Dante walked over, picked up the papers, and gave them a cursory glance before scoffing.

"Elara, do you think we're in some soap opera?" He tossed the documents back on the table. "Three years, and you're still the same spoiled brat."

Spoiled brat?

After my mother died, I had to wear a mask of fire and steel just to survive.

But after marrying Dante, I had slowly let my guard down, seduced by his rare moments of gentleness. I kept bending, hoping one day I'd become the wife he wanted.

Clearly, he'd never even noticed.

I swallowed the bitterness. "I'm serious."

"Serious?" Dante sat down across from me, crossing his legs in a posture that was both relaxed and threatening. "Then let me seriously remind you of something. The partnership between the Romano and Moretti families is a three-billion-dollar deal. Do you really think your father will let you throw that away over a little temper tantrum?"

I just watched him, silent.

"And another thing," he continued, his voice growing colder. "Your sister Luna's medical bills are a million a month. Our private hospital gives her the best drugs and equipment in the world. Do you think the Romano family, in its current state, can afford that without me?"

He stood up, looming over me.

My heart ached, but I forced a smile, the same one I used every time we went to war. "You sound so sure of yourself. But what about your precious Ava? Don't you care? If we don't divorce, she'll always be nothing more than your infamous mistress. It seems you don't love her that much after all, Dante."

We stared at each other, the air thick with tension.

Finally, he grabbed a pen, scribbled his name, and threw the papers at me.

"Happy now? Stop this pointless drama. And don't forget your sister still needs me." He snatched his jacket. "I have business to attend to."

The door slammed shut, leaving me alone in the vast, empty living room.

I looked at the signed papers on the table, and the tears finally came.

But this time, crying felt like a release.

Dante didn't know that Luna had been in remission for six months. I'd used my own money to find her the best doctors and then sent her to France. She was in Paris now, studying art, healthy and happy.

I never told anyone, not even my father. I knew that as long as Luna was "sick," it was the leash that bound me to this marriage.

But I finally understood. The real reason I stayed was never my sister. It was my own stupid heart. I thought one day, Dante would see me. That he would love me as a wife.

What a pathetic fantasy.

I picked up my phone and sent a text to Peterson: "Papers signed. File them with the court tomorrow."

Chapter 4

My phone vibrated. A picture from an unknown number.

My blood turned to ice.

It was Ava, holding my mother's brooch over the deep, dark sea, looking like she was about to drop it.

If you want it, Marina Bay, dock seven. You have one hour. After that, it's gone. Ava

I knew this was a trap, but I didn't care. I had to get my mother's brooch back.

When I stepped onto the yacht, Ava was leaning against the railing, a glass of champagne in her hand.

"You finally made it." She turned, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. "I was starting to think the great Romano princess was too good to see someone like me."

"The brooch. Give it back," I said, cutting to the chase.

"Not so fast." Ava walked over to a sofa on the deck and sat down, crossing her legs elegantly. "Let's chat. After all, this might be the last time we get to talk alone."

She pulled the diamond brooch from her purse, turning it slowly in the sunlight. The flashes of light stung my eyes.

"It's beautiful," she sighed. "Dante told me it was the only thing your mother left you. Such a shame she died so young. She never got to see her daughter marry such a wonderful man."

"Give it back to me," I said, fighting to keep my voice from trembling.

"Oh, I forgot." Ava feigned surprise."You're not Dante's wife anymore. He told me you just got divorced. I almost died laughing."

She stood up and walked toward me.

"You know what he said? He said, 'Elara finally let go, so now we can be together for real.'" Her voice was dripping with triumph. "Then he picked me up and spun me around, and told me I was the woman he's been waiting for all these years."

Every word was a knife in my heart. But I wouldn't let her see it.

"Should I congratulate you?" I said, my voice flat. "Now, can I have the brooch back?"

Ava smiled, a look both sweet and vicious. "Seeing as you're about to be a washed-up divorce, I might consider it."

She stuck out a foot shod in a white high-heeled shoe.

"Kneel. And shine my shoe."

I thought I'd misheard her. "What?"

"You heard me. Kneel and shine my shoe." Ava's smile widened. "Do it, and I'll give you the brooch. It's not too much to ask, is it? It's my property now, after all."

The sea breeze howled in my ears. I felt dizzy.

"What's wrong? The great Romano princess is too proud?" Ava taunted. "Fine. If you don't want it, I'll just throw it away right now."

"Wait!" I cried out. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Then, I knelt.

"Good girl. That's more like it," Ava's voice was smug. "Use your sleeve. I want them spotless."

My hands shook as I reached out and began to wipe her shoe. The white leather gleamed in the sun as my tears fell, one by one, onto the deck.

"You know, Elara," Ava said, looking down at me, "I've hated you since the first day I met you. I hated your high-and-mighty attitude, your confident smile."

I didn't answer, just mechanically continued the humiliating task.

"But look at you now," she went on. "Kneeling at my feet like a servant. Is this the great Romano princess? A pathetic divorce who couldn't even hold on to her own baby?"

Her words hit me like a physical blow. I stopped.

"It's clean," I said, getting to my feet, my voice eerily calm.

"Hmm, not bad." Ava inspected her shoe and nodded. "Well then, a deal's a deal"

She pulled the brooch from her purse and dangled it in front of me.

Then, before I could react, she drew her arm back and threw it. The brooch sailed through the air and disappeared into the sea with a small splash.

"Oops. My hand slipped," she said, her expression one of theatrical shock. "How clumsy of me."

I stared at the spot where the last piece of my mother had vanished into the blue water. My mind went blank.

She stood up, smoothing her dress.

"Thanks for the shoeshine, Elara. It's probably the most useful thing you've ever done. After all, you're not good for much elsecouldn't even hold on to a baby. How does it feel to lose a baby? That's what you get for taking the spot that should have been mine. And this is just the beginning."

I understood her meaning thenmy miscarriage was her doing.

My sanity snapped.

A wave of pure hatred crashed over me. I grabbed Ava's wrist and dragged her to the railing.

"You vicious bitch!" I tightened my grip on her throat. "You killed my baby!"

There was no fear in Ava's eyes, only triumph. "So what if I did? Who's going to believe you?"

I was breathing heavily, determined to expose her, to make Dante see the monster he was protecting.

Just then, Ava looked over my shoulder and a strange smile spread across her face.

Chapter 5

"Elara! Let her go!"

A familiar voice, laced with a murderous rage I had never heard in his voice before, cut through the air from the dock.

I turned. It was Dante, striding onto the yacht with three of his men.

"Dante! Help me!" Avas mask of innocence was back on. She struggled in my grip, her voice a desperate sob. "She's crazy! She's trying to kill me!"

Dante's face grew darker. He slowly drew a silver pistol from his jacket and aimed it squarely at my head.

"You crazy bitch. Let. Her. Go."

The hatred in his eyes was a physical blow. My grip slackened.

But in that instant, Ava grabbed my hand and shoved it against herself, propelling her backward. She screamed as she stumbled past the railing and fell into the water. "Ahhh"

From Dante's perspective, it looked like I had pushed her.

"No!" Dante roared. He dropped the gun and, without a second of hesitation, dived into the ocean after her.

My mind was blank. I watched him swim desperately toward Ava.

Soon, he was back at the yacht's edge, holding a soaked and shivering Ava. His men lowered a ladder and hauled them aboard.

"Ava! Ava, are you okay?" Dante knelt on the deck, clutching her trembling body. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I I almost died" Ava clung to him, shaking from fear and cold. "She really tried to kill me"

Dante stroked her hair, his eyes filled with anguish. Then he slowly stood and turned to me.

CRACK.

His hand whipped across my face, the force of the slap nearly knocking me to the ground.

"You vicious bitch!" he roared, his eyes burning with hellfire. "How dare you! How dare you hurt her!"

I held my stinging cheek, forcing back the tears.

"What if I told you she jumped?"

"She framed me. She killed our baby, she admitted it herself!"

Dante's face was a mask of disappointment. "Ava would never do something like that! And I told you, the baby was an accident. Are you trying to pin that on her, too?"

I wanted to laugh. It was so absurd.

He believed in Ava's goodness without question but had already condemned me as a monster.

I pointed to a corner of the yacht. "There's a security camera. Watch the footage before you sentence me."

Dante hesitated, a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

But then Avas weak voice cut in.

"Dante my chest hurts I think I'm dying"

He immediately spun back to her, scooping her up in a panic. "Don't be scared. I'm taking you to the hospital now."

He held her so carefully, as if she were the most precious porcelain doll in the world.

He paused as he passed me.

"I will look at the footage," he said, his voice as cold as ice. "And if you did this, I will make you pay."

After Dante left, I stared down into the deep, dark water.

My mother's brooch. I couldn't lose it.

Without a second thought, I jumped. I dove again and again, desperately searching the seabed until my limbs were heavy with exhaustion.

My body, still weak from the miscarriage, couldn't take the strain.

I collapsed.

It wasn't until my own security detail noticed something was wrong that I was found and taken to the hospital.

When I woke up, it was the next day.

My phone was filled with missed calls from Dante and our head butler, Roberto.

Ignoring Dante's threats, I called the butler. "Roberto, what's going on?"

Soon, I found out exactly what Dante's revenge was.

"It's terrible, ma'am!" Roberto's voice was frantic. "Mr. Moretti came to the villa with his men!"

"He's he's going to burn all of your mother's paintings!"

Chapter 6

I floored it, racing back to the estate.

In the garden, a dozen of Dantes men stood in silence. They held my mothers thingsher photo albums, her hand-embroidered handkerchiefs. And in the center, propped on an easel, was a portrait of my mother. Her final painting. My entire world.

A large fire pit sat in the middle of the garden, the air thick with the sickening smell of gasoline.

And Dante stood right beside the portrait, a box of matches in his hand.

"No!" I sprinted toward the garden. "Dante! What are you doing!"

Two guards grabbed me, their grips like iron, holding me back.

"Let me go! Those are my mother's things! You have no right!" I thrashed wildly, my nails digging into their arms.

Dante turned slowly. In the moonlight, his face was a mask of cold fury.

"The security footage showed you pushed her. I gave you a chance to explain," his voice was devoid of any warmth. "But you ignored my calls. Now, you're going to pay the price for hurting Ava."

I shook my head, desperate. "No, the footage it must have been faked! And I passed out, I was in the hospital!"

But he didn't listen. He raised his hand. "Burn it," he commanded.

"Don't! I'm begging you!" I pleaded, tears streaming down my face. For the first time in three years, I was completely broken before him.

He looked down at me, a flicker of pity in his eyes that was quickly extinguished by cold resolve. "When you pushed Ava into the sea, she was just as desperate."

The flame touched the corner of the painting.

I remembered my mother's words.

"Elara, my love, I hope you marry a man who truly loves you. Remember, someone who truly loves you will never, ever hurt you on purpose."

And now, the man I had once loved was destroying my heart in the cruelest way imaginable.

"Mama!" A raw, inhuman scream tore from my throat as I collapsed. "Mama!"

The fire consumed everything, every brushstroke, every memory. The images of my mother, of our life together, vanished before my eyes.

I cried until I couldn't breathe, my body shaking uncontrollably. It was a pain worse than any physical torturethe utter helplessness of watching your most precious treasure be annihilated.

"Put it out!"

Dante's voice suddenly cut through my grief.

His men rushed forward to extinguish the flames, but it was too late. The self-portrait was mostly gone, only a small, charred piece of the corner remaining.

I lay on the ground, sobbing like a lost child.

Perhaps the sight of my complete and utter despair got to him, because for a split second, Dante's cold mask wavered. But just as quickly, it was back in place.

"This is a warning, Elara," he said, looking down at me. "If you ever touch a hair on Ava's head again, next time it won't just be paintings."

I slowly lifted my head, my tear-filled eyes meeting his.

"Dante," I rasped, my voice shredded. "The biggest regret of my life is ever meeting you."

His pupils contracted, but he said nothing.

A sharp pain exploded in my chest, a tidal wave of grief that drowned my senses.

The world went black. I fainted on the gasoline-soaked grass.

The last thing I saw was Dante's cold, indifferent face, and the smoke still rising from the wreckage of my mother's art.

When I woke, it was the next afternoon.

I was in my bedroom at the estate. Sunlight streamed through the windows as if the nightmare of the previous night had never happened.

But then I saw it on my nightstand: the small, burnt fragment of my mother's portrait. A brutal reminder that it was all real.

A knock at the door.

"Come in," I said, my voice weak.

It was Marco, Dante's second-in-command.

He placed a file from his briefcase on the nightstand. "Mr. Moretti asked me to bring you this compensation agreement. He said that perhaps he went too far last night, and he's willing to offer some financial restitution."

"Furthermore," Marco continued, "Mr. Moretti wishes for you to be more rational and to stop harassing Miss Ava. We are all civilized people, after all. There's no need to make things so ugly."

Civilized people?

When he was setting my mother's life's work on fire, he didn't seem very civilized.

I looked at Marco's polite but cold face, and a volcano of rage erupted inside me.

"GET OUT!" I grabbed the water glass from my nightstand and threw it at him. "Take your damn agreement and get the hell out!"

The glass shattered at his feet, splashing water all over his suit.

Marco took a step back, but his expression remained placid. "Ma'am, I understand you're upset, but"

"I SAID GET OUT!" I grabbed the papers, tore them to shreds, and threw them at him. "And you tell Dante I don't want his money! I don't want his compensation! Tell him and his little whore to stay the hell away from me!"

Marco finally turned and left.

And I collapsed back onto the bed, completely drained.

Chapter 7

For three days, I locked myself in my bedroom, drawing all the curtains.

Roberto knocked on my door repeatedly, but the food he brought was left untouched outside. I could hear him sighing, muttering things like, "Miss, you'll make yourself sick," but I didn't care.

I just lay in bed, clutching the burnt scrap of my mother's portrait, not moving.

But someone wouldn't let me have my peace.

Ava kept sending me texts.

Photos of her and Dante walking on the beach. A video of a necklace he'd bought her for a fortune. A blurry picture of them tangled together in bed.

"Thank you for setting us free. Ava"

I should have deleted them. Blocked her number.

But I didn't.

Like a masochist, I stared at the images, watching my husband dote on another woman, until my heart grew numb and the pain finally subsided.

And whatever love I once had for Dante Moretti finally died in the process.

On the fifth day, my phone rang. It was my friend, Sophia.

I hesitated, then answered.

"Elara? God, you sound awful. What's wrong?" Sophias voice was full of concern.

"Nothing, just a cold," I said, trying to sound normal.

"Listen, I know this is a huge ask, but I'm desperate," she said, her words rushed. "There's a charity gala tonight, and I was supposed to play the violin, but my mom was just hospitalized. I have to get to Boston."

"Do you remember?" she said, pausing. "In college, you were always a better violinist than me, it's just that later" She trailed off. "Anyway, can you please, please cover for me? It's just one piece, 'Ave Maria.' I know you still remember it."

'Ave Maria'.

It was my mother's favorite. She said it held the purest love and the deepest longing in the world.

After a long pause, I agreed.

I did my makeup carefully, the delicate details a shield. A white chiffon dress added an ethereal, almost holy quality to my appearance.

I barely recognized the woman in the mirror.

It was the first time since my mother's death that I hadn't hidden behind an aggressive, intimidating facade.

Before going on stage, a young crew member asked me, "Nervous?"

I shook my head. Strangely, I wasn't. In fact, I felt a sense of peace I hadn't felt in years.

Music had always been my sanctuary. No matter how much pain life threw at me, I could always find serenity when I held my violin.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our solo violinist, performing 'Ave Maria.'"

The host's voice filled the hall as a spotlight hit center stage.

I took a deep breath and walked into the light.

The audience quieted, their eyes on me.

I didn't look at them. I just closed my eyes, settled the violin on my shoulder, and let my fingers find the strings.

The first note soared through the ballroom.

In that moment, the world fell away.

The melody of 'Ave Maria' flowed like silk, every note precise, filled with emotion. In that music, I poured all my memories, all my love, all my pain, and all my letting go.

When the final note faded, the hall was plunged into a dead silence.

Then, thunderous applause erupted.

I opened my eyes and took a deep bow.

As I straightened up, I saw him.

Dante. Sitting in the third row, dressed in a black tuxedo, staring at me. His expression was one I'd never seen beforeshock, awe, and something else, something complex and unreadable.

Beside him, Ava, in a pink gown, was tugging at his sleeve. "What's wrong with you?" I couldn't hear her, but I could read the annoyance on her face. "Why are you staring at her?"

Dante didn't answer her. He just kept looking at me.

Our eyes met across the room, and for a second, time stopped.

He was seeing a version of Elara he never knew existednot the hot-headed wife he was forced to marry, but a woman made of fragile strength.

And I was seeing a man I once loved, and now had to completely let go of.

I broke the gaze, gave the audience one last bow, and walked off the stage.

The applause continued behind me, but I knew this performance wasn't just for Sophia. It was for me.

This was my farewell. A final goodbye to the old me.

A final goodbye to Elara Moretti.

From now on, I was starting over.

Chapter 8

After the performance, the organizers insisted I stay for the dinner. I tried to refuse, but they were persistent.

I found a quiet corner, hoping to eat quickly and leave, but I could feel a pair of eyes burning into me.

I didn't have to look to know who it was.

"Dante, you're acting weird tonight."

Ava's voice, sharp with annoyance, carried from a nearby table. I glanced over. She had her arm looped possessively through Dante's.

"It's nothing," Dante replied, his voice flat.

"Really?" she snapped. "Then why have you been staring at your ex-wife ever since she got on stage? What's so special about her scraping on a damn violin?"

"Ava, watch your mouth," Dante warned.

"Did I say something wrong?" Her voice grew shrill. "Don't tell me you still have feelings for her. Dante, don't you forget, she's the one who filed for divorce! She was never worthy of being a Moretti!"

I'd heard enough. I stood up to leave.

Just then, a man in a black suit hurried to Dante's side and whispered something in his ear.

I saw Dante's face darken instantly.

"When did this happen?" he demanded.

"Three hours ago," the man replied. "The Castellano family is saying we leaked the trade route. They lost five million in product."

"Do we know who leaked it?"

"We're investigating, but less than ten people in the organization knew that route."

A mole.

There was a traitor in the Moretti family.

"We're leaving," Dante said in a low voice.

But as he turned to go, Ava grabbed his arm.

"Dante, wait." She shot me a venomous look. "I think you should knowI saw Elara meeting with a strange man a few days ago. Maybe"

She let the sentence hang, but her insinuation was clear.

I looked at her coldly. "You'd better have proof, or I'll sue you for slander."

Dante frowned. He knew I would never jeopardize the family business. "Ava, that's enough."

Her eyes filled with a jealous fire, then brimmed with tears. "Dante, I'm not lying."

"I have proof."

She pulled out her phone and played a video.

On the screen, a woman who looked exactly like me was laughing with a known underboss from a rival family.

But I knew, with sickening certainty, that it wasn't me.

Ava pressed her advantage. "This was right after you burned her mother's things. Maybe she just snapped. Wanted revenge..."

I saw Dante's expression shift.

He was wavering.

"That's enough, Ava," I said, my voice low but firm. "I swear on my family's name, I am not a traitor."

Ava smirked. "Then where were you yesterday afternoon?"

"At home," I said, meeting her gaze. "Is there a problem?"

"Can anyone prove that?"

I fell silent. Roberto had been out for groceries. I was alone.

"See?" Ava said triumphantly to Dante. "She doesn't even have an alibi."

"Ava, you're insane," I said, trembling with rage. "I don't know anything about a trade route. Why would I do this?"

"For revenge," Ava said, as if it were obvious. "You hate that Dante chose me, so you decided to destroy him."

"I"

"Enough."

Dante finally spoke, his voice dangerously low.

I thought he would defend me, that he would shut down Ava's insane accusations.

But he looked at me with cold, hard suspicion.

"Marco," he said to his man. "Take her back."

I froze. "What?"

"Take her back to the estate," Dante said, not looking at me. "Lock her in the Penance Room."

The Penance Room.

I'd heard of it. It was a converted cold-storage unit in the basement, kept at freezing temperatures, where the Morettis interrogated traitors.

"Dante, are you crazy?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You actually believe her?"

"The families are watching," he finally said, his eyes meeting mine. "Until you're cleared, you're a liability."

He tried to soften his tone. "Just until we clear this up. You'll be fine."

His words were meant to be reassuring, but a chill ran down my spine.

He might not believe I was guilty, but he wasn't going to protect me.

If it were Ava, would he be this ruthless?

The question echoed in my mind as two guards grabbed my arms.

"Dante," I said, not struggling. I looked him dead in the eye. "You will regret this."

He had already turned away, giving me nothing but his cold, unforgiving back.

Ava followed him, glancing over her shoulder at me with a victorious smirk.

She'd won. With a few lies, she had turned me from a victim into a criminal.

The car pulled through the gates of the estate. This place, once my home, was now my prison.

The Penance Room was in the deepest part of the basement. When the heavy iron door slammed shut behind me, a bone-deep cold instantly enveloped me.

Within ten minutes, my teeth were chattering.

My body, still weak from the miscarriage, couldn't handle this. A healthy person might endure it, but for me, it was torture.

Just as the time he promised was approaching, I heard a man's voice outside the door.

"The Don said half an hour is too short. Add another hour."

The guard on duty hesitated. "An hour? Isn't that too long?"

"It's the Don's order! You just follow it!"

"Yes, sir."

I listened, numb.

I didn't know if it was truly Dante's order or another one of Ava's schemes.

Either way, the truth was the same. Dante had abandoned me. Again.

Chapter 9

The day after the interrogation, I came down with a raging fever.

For a full week, I was in and out of consciousness in a private hospital bed. A nurse told me my temperature had spiked to 106 degrees several times. They'd almost lost me.

Dante never came.

On the day I was discharged, a family elder informed me there was an important underground auction that night. He said I had to attend with Dante.

I wanted to refuse, but his words left me no choice. "This is about the family's honor, Elara. Whatever is going on between you two, in public, you are still man and wife."

Man and wife.

The words were a bitter joke.

Just as I finished changing into my gown, my lawyer called.

"Mrs. Moretti, I have wonderful news," he said, his voice buzzing with excitement. "The divorce is finalized. All the paperwork has been filed with the court. You can officially announce it whenever you're ready."

My hand holding the phone trembled.

Freedom. It was finally within my grasp.

The auction was in another abandoned factory. Places like this were usually safe, protected by a truce between the major players. But tonight, someone had broken the rules.

Shortly after I arrived, the sound of gunfire erupted outside.

"We're under attack! Everyone get out!"

The place descended into chaos. People screamed and scattered.

My instincts, honed by years of living this life, made me look for Dante.

He was nearby, calmly directing his men to form a defensive line. His eyes met mine, and a complex emotion flickered across his face.

Just then, Ava came running from the side.

"Dante! Help me!" she shrieked, her voice filled with terror. "I'm hurt!"

I saw a shallow scratch on her arm, probably from the panicking crowd.

But Ava acted like she was dying, collapsing dramatically into Dante's arms.

"It hurts" she whispered weakly. "Dante, I'm so scared"

Dante looked down at her, and his expression instantly softened.

"It's okay, I'll protect you," he murmured, stroking her hair. He turned to one of his men. "Get a car ready. We're taking her to the hospital."

He scooped her up and started for the exit.

As he passed me, he hesitated. "Wait here. I'll be back for you."

"Okay," I said, giving him a small smile. It was the last smile I would ever give him. "I'll wait."

Of course, I wouldn't. I had no more expectations.

Dante disappeared with Ava into the chaos.

I was about to find my own way out when a group of Rosetti family thugs blocked my path.

"Elara Moretti," the leader said with a cruel grin. "Our boss wants a word with you."

They tied me up in a deserted warehouse. The leader pulled out his phone and dialed Dante's number.

Once, twice, three times

No answer.

"Damn it!" the man cursed, dialing again.

I sat on the chair, watching his growing frustration with a strange sense of calm.

Dante was busy with the love of his life. He didn't have time to answer his phone.

After the tenth call went unanswered, the leader exploded. "What the hell is that bastard doing!"

"He's at the hospital with his girlfriend," I said calmly. "You grabbed the wrong person. To Dante Moretti, I'm worthless."

The leader stared at me. "Impossible. You're his wife!"

"Ex-wife," I corrected. In that split second of his confusion, I used the piece of wire I'd concealed to slice through the ropes on my wrists.

My training hadn't gone to waste. I broke free, snatched a gun from the nearest guard, and took them all out before they knew what was happening.

I walked out of the warehouse and called my own security. "Pick me up."

While I waited, an unexpected person arrivedDante. He looked frantic, his clothes disheveled.

But I was no longer the Elara who melted at his scraps of affection.

He saw that I was unharmed, and a look of relief washed over his face. "Elara, I'm late. I was coming right back for you, but Ava she really needed me"

"It's fine. I'm okay, aren't I?" I said with a smile, cutting him off.

My calmness seemed to throw him.

He tried again. "My phone died. I didn't abandon you on purpose. And the other day, in the Penance Room it wasn't my order to keep you there longer. I've already dealt with the man who did it"

I nodded, feeling no relief. "I see."

Dante looked lost. "Elara"

My car pulled up.

I got in, then looked back at Dante one last time. "I have a gift for you. Make sure you're watching the sky tonight."

And then, I was gone.

I didn't go home. I called my lawyer.

"Execute the plan," I said, my voice firmer than it had ever been. "Do it now."

At exactly midnight, every electronic billboard in downtown Chicago lit up at once.

Giant red letters blazed against the night sky:

CONGRATULATIONS TO ELARA ROMANO AND DANTE MORETTI ON THEIR DIVORCE! FINALLY FREE!