Chapter 2

Caterina "Cat" POV:

The next morning, I met Giuliana at a small café in Little Italy, a place so old and unassuming that none of Alex's men would ever think to look for me there.

Jules had been my best friend since we were kids, long before she became a brilliant lawyer and I became the wife of a Don.

She took one look at my face and slid a cup of coffee across the table. "It's real, then? You're really doing it?"

I nodded, the word "yes" catching in my throat.

"Cat," she breathed, a mix of shock and relief in her eyes. "You gave up everything for him. Your art, your friends... you built your entire life around being the perfect Don's wife."

A raw, tired whisper escaped me. "I'm done trying."

I leaned forward, my voice dropping. "She's back, Jules."

Giuliana's face went pale. "Isabella?"

I nodded. It all made sense now. Alex's obsession with privacy, the way he guarded his phone and his past-it was a fortress built to protect her memory.

He was a living contradiction-a man who demanded absolute secrecy in our marriage, yet left a public monument to a past love.

I remembered the night he took me to his "favorite" restaurant on our first anniversary. He'd been quiet, nostalgic. I thought he was opening up to me.

Now I knew the truth.

He was just reliving a memory with her, and I was just the stand-in, the understudy playing her part.

I was shaped to fit the empty space she left behind.

"I'll have the separation papers drawn up by the end of the day," Giuliana said, her voice firm, pulling me back to the present.

"But you know how he'll see this. To a man like Alex, this isn't a divorce. It's an act of war. A challenge to his authority."

"I know," I said, my voice quiet. He wouldn't see a heartbroken wife; he would see a possession trying to escape.

I remembered Giuliana's words to me after my wedding, whispered in the coat check line while Alex held court.

"He looks at you like a newly acquired painting, Cat," she'd said. "Beautiful, valuable, something to hang on his wall. Not like the woman he can't live without."

I hadn't wanted to hear it then. I'd spent five years trying to prove her wrong.

"You can tell someone the stove is hot a hundred times," I murmured, looking down at my coffee. "But they don't really understand until they touch it themselves."

Outside, the sky opened up, a sudden downpour turning the streets dark.

A moment later, the café door opened and a man stepped inside, shaking a large black umbrella. It was Marco, Giuliana's fiancé, one of my husband's most loyal Soldiers.

He spotted us and his serious face broke into a warm smile. He walked over to our table, bent down, and kissed Jules softly.

The intimacy between them was so easy, so natural. It was a partnership.

My marriage was a transaction.

"Ready to go, mia cara?" Marco asked her. He glanced at me. "Mrs. De Luca. Can I give you a ride? It's coming down hard."

I shook my head, managing a small smile. "Thank you, Marco, but I'll wait out the storm."

I watched them leave, Marco's arm wrapped protectively around Giuliana as he held the umbrella over her head.

They were a team.

The question that had haunted me for five years echoed in the empty space they left behind. Why was it so hard for Alex to love me?

And for the first time, a simple, devastating answer hit me with the force of a physical blow.

It was never about me.

He just didn't love me. And he never would.