The Last Rung Of Hope

Chapter 4

Isabella's POV

For three weeks, I survived on the memory of Antonio’s smile, not the cold, joyful one from the gala, but the old one. The one I thought belonged to me.

I convinced myself that he was being watched, that the "deal" required him to play along, and that any day now, a high-priced lawyer would walk through the gates of Blackwood and tell me it was all a ruse to catch the real criminals.

That was what I could resort to but as the seconds grew into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into days and days into weeks, my hope kept dwindling.

When the guard tapped on my bars and grunted, "7042, you have a visitor," my heart leaped into my throat.

"Is it a lawyer?" I asked, scrambled to my feet, trying to smooth down my wrinkled orange jumpsuit with shaking hands. "Is it my husband?"

The guard didn't answer. He just led me through the maze of grey halls. I didn't care about the cold. I didn't care about the bruises on my arms from the welcome my cellmate had given me. I was going home. I just knew it.

I walked into the visiting room. It was a bleak space divided by thick, scratched plexiglass. I scanned the rows of seats, my eyes searching for Antonio’s broad shoulders.

Instead, I saw a shock of perfectly coiffed silver hair and a coat made of mink that cost more than the lives of everyone in this room combined.

Sophia Rossi.

My heart sank, but I pushed the disappointment down. She’s here to deliver the message, I told myself. Antonio couldn't come because of the press.

I sat down, picking up the heavy plastic phone. Sophia didn't pick up hers immediately. She sat there, staring at me with a look of clinical fascination, as if she were observing a particularly repulsive insect under a microscope.

"Sophia," I whispered through the glass, my breath fogging the surface. "Thank God. Did Antonio send you? Is the bail ready? I have the files he needs to prove…"

Sophia finally picked up the receiver. Her laughter was soft, melodic, and absolutely chilling.

"You really are a pathetic creature, Isabella," she said, her voice dripping with pity. "Even now, after he threw you to the wolves, you’re wagging your tail like a loyal dog."

"What are you talking about?" My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white. "Where is my husband?"

"Your husband?" Sophia leaned in, her eyes gleaming. "Antonio is currently in the Maldives. The weather is spectacular this time of year. He’s there with Clara, celebrating the fact that the Rossi Problem, that would be you, dear, has finally been solved."

"No," I shook my head, my eyes burning. "He wouldn't. He loves me. We have a daughter…"

"You had a daughter," Sophia corrected, her voice turning cold as ice. "Mia has a new mother now. One who doesn't have a criminal record. One who doesn't spend her nights in a cage. Mia doesn't even ask about you anymore, Isabella. We told her you ran away because you didn't love her enough to stay out of trouble. And she believed us."

"You monster!" I slammed my fist against the glass. "I built that company! I gave you people everything!"

"And we thank you for it," Sophia said, sliding a thick envelope through the metal slot at the bottom of the divider. "Which is why I’m here. To finalize the garbage disposal."

I looked down at the papers. My eyes blurred as I read the bold headers:

PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.

TERMINATION OF PARENTAL RIGHTS.

TRANSFER OF CORPORATE SHARES.

"Antonio wants a clean slate for his new bride," Sophia said. "Sign these. All of them. In exchange, I’ve put a little money in your prison commissary account. You can buy yourself some extra soap. You certainly smell like you need it."

I stared at the papers. This was it. The man I had sculpted into a King, the man I had spent ten years protecting, was erasing me from existence. He wasn't just taking my freedom; he was taking my name, my child, and my legacy.

"If I don't sign?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Then I make sure you never leave this place alive," Sophia said casually, checking her diamond-encrusted watch. "The inmates here are very... affordable. One word from me, and your accident happens tonight. Sign the papers, Isabella. Accept that you were a temporary worker in the Rossi empire, and your contract has ended."

I looked at the pen chained to the table. I thought of Mia. I thought of the way she used to call me "Mommy." If I fought, they would kill me, and she would grow up believing I was a thief who abandoned her. If I signed... I might live to see her again.

A sob broke from my chest, a raw, guttural sound of a woman being torn apart. I picked up the pen.

Every stroke of the ink felt like a lash across my back. I signed away my marriage. Scribble. I signed away my right to see my daughter grow up. Scribble. I signed away the billions of dollars I had earned with my own brilliance. Scribble.

The salt from my tears hit the paper, smearing the ink, but I didn't stop. I was signing my own death warrant as Isabella Rossi.

When I finished, I pushed the papers back through the slot. I couldn't look up. I just sat there, my shoulders shaking, my forehead resting against the cold, scratched glass.

"Good girl," Sophia said. I heard the rustle of her coat as she stood up. "Don't bother looking for us when you get out in a decade. We’ll be far beyond your reach by then."

She walked away. Her heels clicked on the linoleum floor,tap, tap, tap, the sound of a woman who had won everything.

I sat in that chair for a long time, the dial tone of the disconnected phone buzzing in my ear like a swarm of hornets. I didn't move until the guard grabbed my shoulder.

"Visiting time is over, 7042. Back to the hole."

I didn't fight him. I let him lead me back. But as I walked, the weeping slowly stopped. The tears dried on my face, leaving a salty crust. The crushing weight in my chest didn't disappear, it changed. It shifted from the heavy lead of grief into the sharp, jagged flint of a weapon.

They had taken everything. My husband, my child, my wealth, my dignity.

They thought they had left me with nothing.

They forgot that the person who has nothing is the most dangerous person in the world.