After everything was arranged, I went home.

The moment I stepped through the front door and handed my coat to one of the maids, I heard Luca’s voice drift from the dining room.

“Elena, where have you been?”

He came toward me fast, his brow drawn tight, the worry in his face completely unhidden.

“I called you several times. You never answered. I was close to sending men out to look for you.”

As he spoke, he took my bag from my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“The kitchen just got in a fresh shipment of salmon from that supplier you love in Sicily. I had the chef prepare it two ways for you—carpaccio and seared in cream sauce. Another twenty minutes and it would’ve been ruined.”

He said it so easily, so familiarly, as if there had never been a fracture between us. As if the scene I had witnessed at the hospital only hours ago—him with Sofia and their little boy—had been some grotesque hallucination instead of the truth.

I looked at him and felt cold all the way through.

Only a few hours earlier, he had been sitting in a pediatric clinic with another woman and their child, calmly telling a doctor I would never find out.

And now here he was, standing in our house like the perfect husband, worried that I’d missed dinner.

I parted my lips to answer, but the smell of fish drifting out from the dining room hit me too hard.

My stomach lurched.

I turned away and pressed a hand to my mouth, gagging.

Luca’s expression changed instantly.

“What’s wrong?” He was at my side in a second. “Is your stomach acting up again?”

“It’s nothing,” I said quietly. “I had an iced coffee earlier. I think it just hit me badly.”

Without hesitation, he turned to the butler.

“Get rid of the salmon. Have the kitchen make her warm pumpkin soup instead. Something light.”

I watched him move the entire household with a single sentence just because I said I didn’t feel well, and something in my chest twisted painfully.

If I hadn’t seen what I saw today, I might have believed he truly loved me the way he always claimed he did.

“Sit down for a while,” he said, guiding me gently toward the sitting room. “Eat something warm, then go upstairs and rest. Tomorrow is our first wedding anniversary. I wanted to have you try on your dress tonight, but I guess that’ll have to wait until morning.”

Just then, the doorbell rang.

A moment later, a woman’s voice floated in from the foyer.

“Sorry to come by so late.”

Then Sofia Romano walked in with the child in her arms.

She wore a simple ivory dress, understated and elegant, her dark hair falling loose over her shoulders. The little boy—about a year old—rested against her chest, wide dark eyes taking in everything around him. In her hand, she carried a deep blue gift box.

Luca’s face darkened at once.

“What are you doing here?”

His voice was ice now, nothing like the warmth he had used with me only moments before.

Sofia held herself stiffly, all business.

“The gift you ordered through our auction house.”

She handed the box to the butler without lowering her eyes.

Luca stared at her, his expression turning lethal.

“I told you to leave this city.”

Her chin lifted. “I did. I’m only back on business. I leave again tomorrow.”

Then she looked at me, and there was something sharp, almost amused, in her expression.

“Why exactly did you want me gone so badly? Unless Donna is afraid—”

“Enough.”

The look he gave her was pure warning.

And then,the little boy in her arms stretched both hands toward Luca and let out a sleepy, garbled plea.

“Up.”

Luca went still for the briefest second. I caught the flicker in his eyes before he buried it.

“Take your child and leave,” he said coldly. “And if you ever show up in front of my wife again, I won’t be merciful.”

Sofia’s jaw tightened. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but in the end she only turned toward the door. Before stepping out, she glanced back at me once.

It was triumph in her eyes.

When she was gone, silence settled over the house.

Luca stood there for two seconds, then turned back to me, his whole expression already softened again.

“Elena, don’t let someone that insignificant ruin your evening.”

He crossed the room and stopped in front of me, his voice low and gentle.

“Everything for tomorrow is already set. The yacht, the dinner, the fireworks, even that band you love. I’m spending the whole day with you. Nothing’s going to get in the way.”

I looked at him without answering.

If I hadn’t heard the truth at the hospital, if I hadn’t just seen that child reach for him with the instinct of someone used to being held by him, maybe I would have believed him.

Maybe I would have let myself fall for this version of Luca Moretti again.

But now all I felt was the sick, hollow weight of how ridiculous it all was.

I didn’t confront him.

I didn’t tear the lie apart.

I just lowered my eyes and said softly, “Okay.”

When I woke the next morning, Luca’s side of the bed was already empty.

Just then, my phone vibrated on the nightstand.

It was the call from the company.

“Ms. Elena Moretti, everything you requested is in place. Cleanup, severing your identity, and establishing your new one have all been completed.”

I gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment and ended the call.

A second later, another message appeared on my screen. This one was from Luca.

Elena, something urgent came up at the casino. I have to handle it myself. Go on ahead to Emerald Isle and wait for me there.

Emerald Isle.

I looked at the words, and a faint, bitter smile touched my lips.

Two years ago, Luca had bought the private island for an obscene amount of money. White sand, a private dock, a glass villa facing the sea. When he placed the deed in my hands, he had held my fingers and promised that every anniversary, he would take me there for a few quiet days, away from everyone else.

But the truth was, he had never once really been free on our anniversary.

As head of the Moretti family, there was always something. The books from the underground casinos. Weapons shipments that needed his approval. Family council meetings called without warning, even in the middle of the night.

Over the years, I had gotten used to waiting for him on days that were supposed to belong to us.

Four years ago, it had been the same.

I waited from noon until deep into the night before he finally came home, carrying the cold wind in with him. He held me and apologized over and over, promising he would make it up to me. That was the night I laughed and told him that if he really wanted to make it up to me, he could sign the beach house over to me.

I slipped the divorce papers into the property transfer documents and got his signature on the last page.

By then, I already knew about the affair.

After I left, he went mad trying to find me.

In the end, someone gave him my location for enough money.

This year, there would be no second thoughts. No one would drag me back.

After I got dressed and packed what I needed, I went downstairs.

The butler was already waiting.

“Mrs. Moretti, before he left, Mr. Moretti instructed us to prepare the yacht and an escort team if you were going to Emerald Isle.”

I nodded, but before I could answer, my phone chimed with a new message.

It came from an unknown account.

You always said betrayal was the one thing you could never forgive, didn’t you? The first time Luca slept with me, you ran straight to divorce. Now my child with him is already a year old. Are you really still going to stay?

My fingers tightened around the phone.

Then a video came through.

Luca was sitting on a sofa, his suit jacket tossed aside, his shirt sleeves rolled up. The little boy—was in his arms.

The child fussed for a moment, then quieted, pressing his face against Luca’s chest with the easy trust of someone who knew that place well.

I stared at the screen, feeling as though something had been carved out of my chest, leaving nothing behind but cold air.

So that was the emergency at the casino.

So that was why he wanted me to go ahead to Emerald Isle without him.

It was never about business.

It was about another woman and their child.

I slowly locked the screen and let out a breath.

Last night, some part of me had still wondered whether today might at least be a clean ending.

But even that small shred of dignity had been too much to expect from Luca.

At the marina parking area, the butler and the security detail got out with me.

I stopped them before they could come any farther.

“You can go back. I’m going alone. It’s our first anniversary after remarrying. I don’t want anyone else there.”

The butler hesitated. “But Mr. Moretti said—”

“I have a yacht license. I’ll be fine.”

My voice was soft, but final.

Then I turned and walked straight toward the dock.

The white yacht sat at its private berth, sleek and still in the early light, like some great animal waiting beneath the sun. By the time I stepped onto the deck, no one followed me.

I slid into the helm, and before starting the engine, I called the company.

“I’ve left.”

The voice on the other end did not waste words.

“Understood.”

I ended the call and pushed the throttle forward.

The yacht cut across the water. The sea wind lifted my hair, and sunlight shattered across the waves in blinding sheets of gold.

Half an hour later, the yacht entered the designated waters.

Then—

The explosion tore through everything at once.

Fire swallowed the sky.