Marco Isabella Ava NovelThe Seabreeze of Port City

1
After the divorce, I fled to the mainland, scarred and broken, and disappeared into a quiet life under a new name and face. Everyone believed Id died in a gang war that burned the docks to ash.
For five years, my ex-husband Marcos men visited my graveuntil an old acquaintance walked into my barbecue shop. Stunned, he asked, Youre alive? Why havent you returned? Marcos been trying to kill himself out of guilt. Hes given up on the Family.
Marco, once one of Port Citys underworld Reapers, had vowed with his partner Isabella not to marry until they restored their Familys glory by thirty. But he met me at twenty, married me, and broke their pact.
Isabella turned vengeful: she poisoned me on our wedding night, locked me in a freezer while I was pregnanteach time, Marco saved me. This went on for three years.
On the ninety-ninth attempt, she strapped me with timed bombs and left me at a rival gangs door. With three minutes left, I ran to the police.

When Marco finally arrived, the first words out of his mouth weren't of concern, but of accusation.
"There are a dozen guys in the Family who could've defused that. Did you run to the cops on purpose? Were you trying to get Bella arrested?"
The complete lack of care in his voice left a bitter taste in my mouth. "She was trying to kill me! Your men all listen to her. Where else was I supposed to go?"
For the first time, I didn't back down, and my defiance infuriated him. "I came up with Bella in this life. I know her. She values loyalty above all else. She was just trying to toughen you up."
"I'll send her overseas to expand our operations later," he continued, "but she's the one who brings in the money for the Family. Nothing can happen to her."
He slid a settlement agreement and a credit card across the table, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Sign it. There's a hundred thousand on the card. For your trouble."
I stared at him, my heart feeling like it was being crushed in a vice. Was that all I was worth to him? A hundred thousand dollars?
When I didn't move, he frowned. "Ava, everything you have, everything you wearBella's work paid for it. Don't bite the hand that feeds you."
"I'll sign it when I'm dead."
Marco's eyes turned to ice. "You can do this the easy way or the hard way." He swiped his phone open. The sound of our daughter's terrified screams filled the air as one of his men twisted her little hand at an unnatural angle.
"No!" I shrieked. "Marco, that's your daughter too!"
A cold smile touched his lips. "Sign it, or she spends the rest of her life as a cripple. Your choice."
On the screen, the man snapped our two-year-old's forearm. She convulsed in agony.
"Don't hurt her! I'll sign!" I sobbed, my hand shaking too violently to hold the pen. Marco grabbed my hand and forced it to trace out my name, stroke by stroke.
I looked at the man I had loved for so many years, my voice choked with tears. "Why? Why would you do this to us, just for her?"
A flicker of regret crossed his face. He started to reach for me, but then he saw Isabella in the interrogation room next door and stopped himself. "I didn't want to use our daughter, Ava. I had no choice. Try to understand."
"Bella is my second-in-command, and she's my mentor's only child. She's never seen the inside of a precinct before. She's not like you."
He called one of his men and ordered them to take our daughter to the best hospital in the city. "If anything, and I mean anything, happens to my little girl, I'll have your heads."
I watched, my heart turning to a block of ice, as he snatched the agreement and rushed to get Isabella.
My love for him, blurred by a torrent of tears, died with that signature.
As I left the precinct, I called his mentor, Don RossiIsabellas father. My voice was raw, final. "Don Rossi, I know you've always seen Marco as your son-in-law. I know you've always thought I stood in the way of him and your daughter."
"Now, you have your wish. I'm divorcing him."
The old Don was surprised, but his voice was laced with smug satisfaction. "You're a smart girl. But everything Marco has, the Family and my daughter gave to him. You'll leave with nothing. And you'll leave Port City for good."
"Sign the papers and get them to me as soon as possible. The divorce will be final in a month. After that, I never want you to show your face in front of Marco again."
"Done," I said, my voice crisp.
I hung up, signed the divorce papers immediately, and had a lawyer deliver them to Don Rossi.
For the next two weeks, it was as if Marco had vanished from the face of the earth. I stayed by our daughter's side in the hospital, sleepless and alone.
He only reappeared the day she was discharged. He was wearing an apron, a feast laid out on the table to celebrate our "homecoming."
He bought me a limited-edition sports car. He commissioned a solid gold statue in our daughter's name at the local cathedral, to ensure her "divine protection." The tabloids hailed him as a "devoted family man," while I was the "trashy girl who got lucky."
It was as if his cruelty at the precinct had been a figment of my imagination.
But I knew this wasn't about guilt. It was about confidence. He was sure that, just like every other time, a few grand gestures would be enough to make me forget, to make me continue to endure Isabella's abuse.
Nausea churned in my stomach. I ran out of the cathedral for some fresh air, only to come face-to-face with Isabella herself.
"Well, well, Mrs. Ricci. A new car, a golden statue. You must be on top of the world," she purred, blowing a cloud of smoke in my face. "Marco loves you so much, doesn't he? But do you know where he was while you were playing nurse?"
She grinned, a venomous, triumphant look in her eyes. "He was with me. On a private resort down the coast, helping me get over the 'trauma' of being in a police station. We hiked during the day, and he kept me warm in bed at night. While you and your brat were left to rot in that hospital."
Every word was a dagger to my heart. He knew how badly our daughter was hurt, and he still chose to comfort the uninjured Isabella.