Chapter 4
In the glow of the flames, I heard the sound of an engine.
Theo’s car sped back into the manor, practically ramming the gates open. When he saw me standing in the garden, he finally let out a breath of relief.
“Sophie!” He rushed over and pulled me into his arms. “Why did you come back alone? I couldn’t find you anywhere on the yacht. I almost turned all of Sicily upside down!”
I smelled the thick scent of lovemaking clinging to him. Swallowing the wave of nausea, I said calmly, “You were gone so long. I got scared, so I asked the driver to bring me home.”
His eyes reddened with guilt. He held me tightly, refusing to let go. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. For the next two days, I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay home with you.”
However, the next morning, he received a call from Isabella.
From the second-floor balcony, I watched him speak into the phone with gentle coaxing. “Don’t cry, I’m coming over right now. What do you want? A limited-edition bag? Jewelry? I’ll buy you whatever you want!”
He hung up and looked up, only to meet my empty gaze. At once, he switched to a guilty expression. “Sophie, there’s an urgent issue at the docks I have to handle. Be good and stay home. I’ll be right back.”
I nodded and handed him the documents I had prepared.
“Sign this for me before you go. I can’t see, so I can’t sign. Just your name will do.”
He was always so meticulous that even in front of a blind woman, he kept up every part of his act. His expression was perfectly convincing.
But because his beloved was hurt, he didn’t bother checking what the document was and signed his name on the last page.
He was too anxious to run to Isabella, who had supposedly fallen and hurt herself.
“What is this? Insurance?” he asked casually, putting the pen back into my hand.
“Something like that,” I said with a smile. “Something that guarantees my future.”
He hurried off, his black sedan kicking up a cloud of dust.
I stood at the doorway, removed my sunglasses, and watched his car fade into the Sicilian morning fog.
“Theo Moretti,” I whispered, “the game is over.”
I returned to the study and pulled out the suitcase I had hidden in the curtains.
I decided to take only three things with me:
A signed divorce agreement, a USB drive filled with evidence of Theo and Isabella’s affair, and a silver-plated dagger. It was the symbol of a senior family member, a gift Father gave me when I turned eighteen.
While the house was empty, I made a copy of the divorce papers and duplicated the USB drive.
I took one final look around this home, placing the copy of the divorce papers and the USB drive prominently on the coffee table.
Then I put on my sunglasses and walked out of the manor without looking back.
Outside, a black sedan was waiting.
The driver opened the door. Silas stood beside it and extended his hand.
“Welcome home, my principessa.”
At the hospital, Theo arrived to find Isabella lying in the VIP ward, her face carefully done up to look pitifully fragile.
“Theo, I thought you didn’t want me anymore…”
She cried helplessly. “The doctor says I need rest, but I’m so scared to be alone.”
Theo pressed a loving kiss to her forehead. “Silly girl, how could I not want you? Whatever you want, I’ll give you.”
He stayed with her for an hour, talking until Isabella drifted to sleep contentedly.
Only then did he remember to call me, all alone at home, to explain.
The phone rang long enough for him to think no one would answer.
Then a robotic voice said, “The number you have dialed is turned off.”
He frowned, unease rising in his chest.
I never turned off my phone. I was always afraid Theo might need me and wouldn’t be able to reach me.
He immediately called the manor’s landline. The butler answered, “Madam? She left the manor this morning with a suitcase.”
“What?” Theo’s voice shifted sharply. “Where did she go?”
“We don’t know, but…” The butler hesitated. “She left her wedding ring in your study. And it looks like there are some documents.”
Theo’s heart clenched violently.
He rushed out of the ward and sped back to the manor.
The moment he entered the living room, he saw the documents on the coffee table.
The words “divorce agreement” stabbed straight into his eyes.