All Chapters of FRAMED FOR MURDER WHILE PREGNANT: NOW I'M THE MAFIA'S WIFE: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

120 Chapters

FUNERAL WAS IN 24 HOURS

Von POV Los Angeles Day Four The funeral was in twenty four hours.I stood in my closet, staring at my black suit, and wondered how I'd gotten here.Planning a funeral for my living wife while my children grieved downstairs and somewhere in Arizona, Marissa sat in a concrete cell believing I'd betrayed her.My phone rang. Marcus."Tell me you found something," I said."I found something. You're not going to like it.""I haven't liked anything in the past six months. Tell me anyway.""The Bureau of Prisons administrator who authorized the money transfer to Diana Foster? His name is Deputy Director James Whitmore. Thirty year career in federal corrections, impeccable record, connections throughout DOJ.""And?""And he's been on someone's payroll for at least a decade. Shell companies, offshore accounts, payments disguised as consulting fees. He's been facilitating prison transfers, manipulating inmate records, arranging 'accidents' inside federal facilities for years.""Who's paying hi

CATHERINE ARRIVED

Marissa POV FCI Phoenix Day Four Catherine arrived at exactly 2 PM.They brought me to a small attorney conference room barely bigger than my cell, but it had a real table and two chairs and a door that closed for privacy.Catherine looked exhausted. Dark circles under her eyes, hair not quite as perfect as usual, tension in her shoulders."You look terrible," I said."You look worse. Solitary is already taking its toll." She set down her briefcase. "How are you holding up?""Four days in isolation. I've walked approximately fifty miles in an eight by ten cell, counted ceiling tiles until I've memorized every pattern, and started talking to myself. So great. I'm doing great.""Marissa ""Is he really going through with it? The funeral?"Catherine's face told me everything. "Tomorrow. 2 PM. Small service, family only."I closed my eyes against the wave of pain. "My children are going to watch my coffin lowered into the ground.""Your children are going to believe their mother is at pe

THE FUNERAL

Von POV Los Angeles Day Five (Friday) The sky was too blue for a funeral.I stood in front of the bathroom mirror at 11 AM, adjusting my black tie for the third time. My hands shook slightly. Not from grief though that was real enough but from the weight of what I was about to do.Bury an empty casket.Eulogize a living woman.Lie to my children's faces while one of them knew the truth and had to pretend she didn't."Dad?" Sofia stood in the doorway, wearing the black dress my mother had bought her. She looked tiny in it. Fragile. "Is it time?""Almost, sweetheart. Go make sure Mateo has his jacket on properly. You know how he struggles with buttons."She left, and I gripped the edge of the sink, forcing myself to breathe. You can do this. You have to do this. Marissa is alive because of this. My mother appeared next. "The cars are here. Everyone's ready." She studied my face. "Mijo, are you okay?""No. But I will be."She knew me well enough not to push. Instead, she straightened

NOT FOR MY DEATH

Marissa POV FCI Phoenix Day Five I knew when the funeral was happening.2 PM West Coast time. 3 PM Arizona time.At exactly 3 PM, I was in the recreation cage, standing in the center with my face tilted to the sun.And I let myself grieve.Not for my death I was alive, safe, surviving.But for what this was costing my family.My children, crying over an empty casket.Von, standing strong while falling apart inside.Isabella, watching it all while knowing the truth.My mother, confused and sad, asking where I was.All of them suffering because someone wanted me dead.I gripped the chain link fence and let the tears come.Officer Hayes, supervising my rec time from outside the cage, pretended not to notice.After my hour was up, she escorted me back to my cell without comment.But when she locked the door, she said quietly, "Whatever you're going through, Sanchez, I hope it gets better."She didn't know. Couldn't know. But the kindness in her voice nearly broke me all over again."Than

GRIEF AND CEREMONY

Von POV Los Angeles Late Night The house was finally quiet.The children were asleep exhausted from grief and ceremony. My mother had gone home after settling them. I was alone in my office with a glass of whiskey I hadn't touched.My phone rang. Catherine."It's done," she said. "Body cremated, ashes scattered per your instructions. No evidence, no way to verify. Marissa Castellano is officially dead and buried.""Good." I closed my eyes. "And Marissa herself?""I spoke to the facility. She made it through the day. Officer reports she was emotional during rec time but recovered. She's resilient, Von. She'll survive this.""What choice does she have?""The same choice you have. Keep moving forward because the alternative is unacceptable."After we hung up, I finally took a sip of whiskey. It burned going down.My computer screen showed security feeds from our home Marcus's precaution. Multiple cameras, monitored 24/7, making sure no threats approached my children.My children who'd j

SETTLING IN

Marissa POV FCI Phoenix Week Two The days blurred together.Day six. Day seven. Day eight.Each one exactly like the last. Same routine, same cell, same crushing silence.I'd thought the first week would be hardest the shock of isolation, the adjustment to complete solitude.I was wrong.The second week was worse.Because by then, the routine had calcified into something mechanical. Wake, exercise, eat, read, pace, eat, rec time, eat, write, sleep. Repeat. The sameness was suffocating.I found myself inventing games just to mark time differently.On day nine, I recited every poem I'd memorized in college. Took forty three minutes.On day ten, I sang every song I could remember from my childhood. Filled two hours.On day eleven, I mentally redecorated every room in our Los Angeles house. Three hours.On day twelve, I broke.Not dramatically. Not with screaming or violence.I just sat on my bunk after breakfast and couldn't make myself move.Couldn't exercise. Couldn't read. Couldn't e

MY SPLIT EXISTENCE

Von POV Los Angeles Week Two Returning to normal felt obscene.The funeral was over. The condolence calls had stopped. Life, supposedly, continued.I had a company to run. Children to raise. A household to manage.All while my wife was in solitary confinement and I was secretly planning to destroy a federal corruption network.Isabella returned to school after a week off. Sofia and Mateo weren't ready yet the grief counselor recommended giving them more time.So my days became a split existence: business executive by day, single parent by evening, conspiracy investigator by night.Marcus came to my office three times that week with updates."Deputy Director Whitmore is getting nervous," he reported on day nine. "He's made three encrypted calls to the same number in the Cayman Islands. We're working on tracing the recipient.""What's he nervous about?""Not sure yet. Could be routine paranoia, could be something specific. But he's definitely on edge."On day eleven, Marcus had better

SOLVING MATH PROBLEMS IN MY HEAD

Marissa POV FCI Phoenix Week Three By week three, I'd developed a system.Not just a routine a mental framework for surviving solitary confinement without losing myself completely. Morning (5:30 AM 12:00 PM): Physical maintenance. Exercise until exhaustion, shower when permitted, eat mechanically, maintain the body because the mind needed the structure. Afternoon (12:00 PM 6:00 PM): Mental engagement. Read, write, solve math problems in my head, recite poetry, anything to keep my brain active and sharp. Evening (6:00 PM 10:00 PM): Emotional processing. This was the hardest part. The time when I allowed myself to feel grief, anger, fear, hope. I'd write letters to my children, compose speeches I'd never deliver, plan the life I'd return to when this ended.The system helped. Made the days feel purposeful instead of just empty.On day seventeen, Officer Hayes brought something unexpected during morning inspection."Package for you, Sanchez. From your attorney."My heart jumped. Cat

REPORTERS

Von POV Los Angeles Week Three "Mr. Castellano? There's a reporter here asking for comment."My assistant's voice through the intercom pulled me from financial reports I'd been reviewing without actually processing."What reporter?""Says she's writing a feature on prison reform. Wants to interview you about Marissa's death and the failures of the federal system."My spine straightened. Could be legitimate. Could be someone digging too deep."Tell her I'm not giving interviews. Family privacy, still grieving, standard response.""She says she has information about irregularities in your wife's case. Says you'll want to hear what she knows."Shit."Have security run her credentials. If she's legitimate press, schedule a call for tomorrow. If she's anything else, get her information and send her away.""Yes, sir."After my assistant disconnected, I called Marcus immediately."We might have a problem. Reporter showed up asking about Marissa, claiming she has information about irregulari

CRACKS IN THE FACADE

Von POV Los Angeles Week Three, Monday Amanda Chen called at exactly 2 PM.I'd spent the morning rehearsing, making sure every word would sound authentic. Marcus had sent me a briefing: Chen was thirty four, Stanford journalism degree, three years at the Times covering criminal justice. Her recent series on prison conditions had won awards. She was thorough, ethical, and exactly the kind of journalist who might accidentally expose something we needed to keep hidden."Mr. Castellano, thank you for speaking with me. I know this is a difficult time."Her voice was professional but kind. Not the aggressive investigator I'd been worried about."I'm willing to talk because the system that killed my wife needs to be exposed," I said, letting real anger bleed through. "If my family's tragedy can prevent another one, then it's worth the pain of reliving it.""I appreciate that. Can you tell me about the circumstances leading up to your wife's death?"I'd prepared for this. Told her about the

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