Chapter 4

Isabella POV

Caterina stared at me, her mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish. The shock on her face quickly morphed into a venomous, desperate need to regain control.

"You ungrateful little bitch," she hissed, her voice echoing in the dead silence of the Main Hall. "After everything we've done for you! You stand in our home and spew this venom?"

Antonio, his pride bleeding out on the expensive Persian rug, finally snapped. The public execution of his honor was too much for his fragile ego.

"On your knees, Isabella!" he roared, the veins in his neck bulging. "Apologize to your mother right now!"

I let out a dark, humorless laugh. "Never."

His face contorted into pure, unadulterated rage. He lunged forward, his heavy hand raised high to strike me down, to beat me back into the submissive, terrified daughter he thought he knew.

I didn't blink. I didn't even shift my weight.

"Are you really going to strike the wife of a Moretti Caporegime?" I asked, my voice a blade of ice slicing through his blind fury.

His hand froze inches from my cheek.

"Think, Antonio," I whispered, my eyes locking onto his terrified ones. "Think what Julian would do to this house, to you, if I returned to him with a bruise you gave me. He'd burn it to the ground, and you know it."

The realization hit him like a physical blow. The marriage he had forced upon me, the very chain he used to bind me, was now my impenetrable shield. He slowly lowered his hand, his chest heaving, staring at me as if I were a monster he had accidentally created.

"Now," I said, smoothing the ruined, blood-stained fabric of my wedding dress. "Let's talk about my mother's trust fund. I want it back. All of it."

Caterina let out a shrill, panicked noise. "That money is gone! We spent it on your Swiss education, your upkeep-"

"I have the original trust documents," I interrupted smoothly. "And I have a very good lawyer."

I turned my gaze back to my father, twisting the knife deeper. "Forget the courts. How would it look, I wonder, if word got out that the head of the Rossi family is so broke, he has to steal from his dead wife's daughter to pay his debts? That he can't even provide a proper dowry for his other daughter, Gianna? No respectable family would want to ally with such weakness."

Antonio's jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth would shatter. Caterina was speechless, her eyes darting nervously around the room.

"Three days," I commanded, the absolute authority of a Don echoing in my own voice. "The full amount, plus interest, transferred to my account. Or everyone in Chicago will know the truth."

I turned to leave, but paused, letting the heavy silence stretch. I stepped into Caterina's personal space, leaning in so only she could hear my next words.

"You think this was about my trust fund? How naive." I watched her pupils dilate with fear. "You should be asking Antonio about Eleonora Vescovi. About their son, Dante, who is older than your precious Rocco. And about their other child... Dahlia."

Caterina stopped breathing.

"He pimped out his bastard daughter to my husband," I whispered, a deadly smile playing on my lips. "He sacrificed me to put her in a position of power. What makes you think, for one second, that he won't sacrifice Rocco for his firstborn son?"

I pulled back, admiring my work. The seed of absolute destruction was planted. Caterina slowly turned her head to look at Antonio, her eyes wide with a terrifying, paranoid realization. The trust between them was dead, shattered beyond repair.

I didn't wait for the fallout. I turned my back on the ruins of the Rossi family and walked out the heavy oak doors into the crisp morning air.

I hailed a waiting cab at the edge of the estate, sliding into the leather seat.

"Where to, Miss?" the driver asked, glancing at my ruined dress in the rearview mirror.

"The Moretti Estate," I replied, staring out the window. The war here was won, but the real battle was waiting for me behind those iron gates.