His words cut deeper than I cared to admit. “So what now? You tell me my marriage was a lie, Marco chose someone else, and I’m just supposed to thank you?”
“No,” he said quietly. “You’re supposed to take back what’s yours.”
I blinked. “What are you talking about?”
Vito stepped closer, his voice dangerous. “Marco didn’t just betray you. He stole from you—your love, your trust, your future—and handed it to Victoria. He used you to build his empire, and now he thinks he can walk away scot-free.”
I swallowed. “And what do you expect me to do about it?”
“You don’t have to let him win,” Vito said. “Everything Marco has, he got because of you. The Moretti empire wouldn’t exist without your family’s name. Now, he’s cutting you out like you’re nothing.”
“I don’t care about his money or empire,” I said. “I just want to be free of him!”
“Do you?” Vito challenged. “Or do you want to make him pay for every lie, every broken promise?”
His question hung in the air. I hesitated, the idea both terrifying and strangely exhilarating.
“You don’t understand,” I said, “I’m not like Marco. I’m not…”
“You don’t have to be like him to beat him. You just have to want it.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Why do you care?”
Vito hesitated, then spoke, his voice steady. “Because Marco doesn’t deserve to win. He thinks he’s erased you, but he’s wrong. You can take back what’s yours—your power, your dignity. You can make him regret everything.”
His words wrapped around me like a vice. The thought of Marco—his betrayal—sent a fresh wave of anger through me.
“Even if I wanted to do something,” I whispered, “how? What could I possibly do to hurt him?!”
“I’m offering you a choice,” Vito said smoothly. “You can let Marco decide your fate, or you can take control of it yourself.”
“This is just the beginning, Celia. With my help, you can rebuild your life—but not as Marco’s discarded wife. As the woman who destroyed him.”
I stared at him. The old Celia would have walked away. But she was gone.
“Revenge, Celia. Revenge…” Vito said.
“I’m in,” I said, the words tasting like poison—and power.
Vito’s smile was sharp, predatory. “Good. Let’s make him pay.”
I leaned forward, my heart pounding in my chest. “How?” I whispered, my voice barely a breath.
Vito’s gaze locked onto mine, dark and calculating. “In ways Marco never saw coming. He won’t even know what hit him.”