When the Valenti Princess Came Home

On the ride home, Matteo finally spoke. "Vivian didn't do it on purpose. Don't make this ugly for her."

Again. With Vivian, there was always an explanation ready.

When our team pulled an all-nighter, Vivian uploaded the wrong backup drive and cost us a week of notes. Matteo said she was new and only wanted to help.

When I flew out for a negotiation and she booked me into a run-down motel on the South Side, he said a vendor had tricked her and I shouldn't be so harsh.

Now Lark Harbor, the project I had bled two years of my life into, the project that would carry Bellandi Group's future cash flow, had been handed to her in front of the whole gala. And still, he said she hadn't meant it.

I locked my phone and looked at him. “Don’t you think what you’re doing for Vivian has gone far beyond looking after an employee?”

Matteo's brow twitched. "Sofia, you're exhausted. That's why your mind is running wild. Don't say things like that in public. You'll ruin her reputation."

His first instinct wasn't to explain himself. It was to protect Vivian.

For a second, I remembered the early days, when investors called me Matteo's decorative wife and tried to talk over me in his own boardroom. Matteo had cut them off and said no one disrespected the woman who built beside him. Back then, his protection had felt like a blade drawn for me. Now that blade was drawn for Vivian.

I closed my eyes. "I understand."

He seemed relieved. His tone softened. "That's more like Mrs. Bellandi."

He didn't take me home. Instead, he drove back to the company. Eleven minutes before midnight, we pushed open the door to the top-floor office. Vivian was curled in his chair with an old noir film playing across the wall screen, one of his white shirts slipping off her shoulder.

The second she saw Matteo, her eyes lit up. She ran to him and wrapped both hands around his arm. "You're finally back. I watched that movie twice waiting for you."

Matteo wasn't angry. He picked up a cashmere throw from the sofa and wrapped it around her shoulders. "If you're tired, sleep here for a while."

When he looked at me again, the warmth was gone. "Sofia, give Vivian all the Lark Harbor data. The Port Authority signing is the day after tomorrow. She needs to get familiar with it."

Lark Harbor was a port-security system we had started two years ago.

Once the project launched, Bellandi Group would finally break into Chicago's real inner circle.

I looked at him. "That eager?"

Vivian smiled before he could answer. "Sofia, don't take it the wrong way. Matteo just wants me to help you. You can't do everything yourself forever, can you?"

She made help sound generous. Her eyes said she was already sitting in my chair.

I nodded. "Fine. I'll organize it."

Matteo paused, clearly surprised I had given in so easily. Vivian yawned, and he immediately turned away, picking up his car keys. "I'll take you home first."

"I knew you loved me best." Vivian leaned against his shoulder with no shame at all.

After they left, I copied the files I could afford to lose into the company system. The real master key and the final partner list went into my own bag.

Then I sent my divorce materials to my attorney and posted one line in an encrypted channel visible only to Chicago's old families and legacy capital.

[Bellandi Group and Sofia Bellandi are entering divorce proceedings. Effective immediately, I no longer stand behind Bellandi Group.]

After I sent it, I stared at the screen for a long time.

Matteo, you thought you gave me a lakefront house, a few cars, and the title of Mrs. Bellandi. What you never understood was that for the past three years, the person holding you up had always been me.