“Don’t forget, Kobi,” Marco hissed, venom dripping from every word, “without her uncle’s money, your hospital wouldn’t even exist. You’re in this as deep as we are. If she finds out—”
I stumbled back, hand clamped over my mouth. Heart hammering against my ribs like it wanted out.
“I never asked to be part of this, Marco. You dragged me into it!”
“Keep your voice down, Kobi! Expose us, and you’re dead. Soon the world will see the tape. Isobel’s dignity… gone. Her uncle takes over her empire. I divorce her. Marry Lydia. All planned.”
Every word was a knife twisting in me. My uncle. My cousin. My husband. The people who were supposed to save me—the people I loved—they were the ones who tore me apart.
“Why all this trouble, Marco? Just divorce her!” Kobi spat.
Marco smiled like a shark smelling blood. “I need to make sure Isobel is dead. No one from her family can cause trouble for Lydia. Proof of love, Kobi. Pure devotion.”
Love. My stomach turned. Three years of kisses, whispers, promises—all lies. I wanted to scream, to cry, to throw up.
I sank to the floor, shaking, my body a mix of ice, fire, and fury. But fury is fuel. And I remembered Piper—my father’s secret weapon, his silent ally waiting for me.
The phone shook in my hands. Piper’s voice came, trembling but steady.
“Mrs. Cooke?”
“Liquidate everything,” I rasped. “Transfer the shares. Keep it secret. Lawyer—draw up divorce papers. Now. Flights for my mother and me in five days. Sicily. No one—especially Marco—must know.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
A shadow fell across the room.
“Know about what, Isobel?”
Marco. Standing there. Smug. Thinking he’d already won.
I smiled. Slow. Sharp. Dangerous.