---- Chapter 7 Isabella POV: The next twenty-four hours were a blur of meticulous execution. The messages from Sofia continued, each one more desperate and cruel, but they were like stones thrown into a deep well-they made no ripple. | met my two closest friends for coffee. They knew something was wrong, they had seen the light go out in my eyes months ago. They just didn't know the specifics. | hugged them both tightly, a silent goodbye they wouldn't understand until later. As | was leaving the cafe, another picture arrived from Sofia. This one was the kill shot. It was Gio, on one knee, in the penthouse. He was holding up the promise ring. The picture was dated. It was from the night of my birthday. That was it. The final piece. | felt a profound sense of calm settle over me. The decision was no longer emotional; it was absolute. | went to the bank. Using the power of attorney Gio had so arrogantly given me years ago, | converted every liquid asset, every stock, every bond in our joint accounts into untraceable bearer bonds. It was a fortune, enough to cripple his legitimate operations for months. | added them to the considerable personal wealth | had already secured ---- The last stop was home. The art movers | had hired-a discreet company that specialized in high-value, no-questions -asked jobs-were already there. They worked in silence, stripping the mansion of everything. The furniture, the rugs, the art, my clothes, my jewelry. Every trace of me, of us, was being erased. | went to my old office and shredded every document that bore the name Isabella Moretti. Passports, credit cards, social security information. She was ceasing to exist. By evening, the house was an empty, echoing shell. It looked like a tomb. It was perfect. | had one small suitcase packed with a few changes of clothes, my camera, and the bearer bonds. Nothing else mattered. | used a burner phone to call a car service, an anonymous number for an anonymous ride to the airport. As the car pulled up, my phone rang. It was Gio. He was at the airport, | could hear the announcements in the background. "Hey, baby," he said, his voice bright and cheerful. "Just wanted to let you know I'm on my way home. The company jet. Should be there in a couple of hours." In the background, | heard Sofia laugh. A business trip. Of course. "Have a safe flight," | said, my voice serene. "| can't wait to see you," he said. "I'll make it up to you, | ---- promise. I've got a gift for you." "| have one for you too, Gio," | said softly. "It's waiting on our bed." "| love you, Bella." "Goodbye, Giovanni," | said, and for the first time, | used his full name. It was a formal, final severance. | ended the call and removed the SIM card. | walked through the empty house one last time. Then, | destroyed the burner phone, snapping it in half and dropping the pieces into separate trash cans. | walked to the gate, my new passport with the name Isabella Rossi in my hand. | felt light. | felt free. As | boarded the plane to Lisbon, | took a window seat. The ---- plane taxied, accelerated, and lifted into the sky, leaving the glittering cage of my old life far below.