Suing My Ex, the Don Chapter 09
Three days later, the FBI team arrested Isabella.
Alexander’s private legal team had dug up the remaining forensic medical logs. My mother’s official cause of death wasn’t a sudden cardiac event triggered by the funding suspension.
The security logs showed that Isabella had personally bypassed the hospital wing on the morning of the wedding, using a pillow to systematically suffocate her when the life-support alarms began to sound. She was terrified my mother would survive the code blue and expose her financial fraud before the marriage certificate was executed.
Standing inside the courtroom, listening to the medical examiner detail the horrific mechanics of her asphyxiation, a total numbness washed through my body.
The morning the final judgment was delivered, I didn’t wear an attorney suit. I sat at the front row of the gallery as a family member, occupying the space meant for the victims.
The federal judge brought his gavel down with a sharp, resonant strike, sentencing Isabella to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole. That clean, simple sound put an absolute, permanent lock on the tragic chaos of the last three years.
As the federal marshals led her out in chains, Isabella stopped right next to my chair. Her voice was a broken whisper.
“I am so sorry…”
I kept my eyes fixed ahead, refusing to grant her even a fraction of a glance.
Stepping through the courthouse doors, the bright afternoon sun forced my eyes to narrow. Alexander was waiting at the bottom of the steps, holding Sophia’s hand. The second I emerged, he stepped into my path, his voice cracking with emotion.
“Grace, the entire truth is out… The De Luca family owes you a debt I am ready to spend the rest of my life paying back. For the sake of the love we used to carry, can you grant us one single chance to rebuild from the ashes?”
Before I could even draw a breath, little Sophia violently pulled away, screaming through her tears, “No! I don’t want this evil woman to be my mommy! She’s the one who locked my mommy in prison! You bad woman, get away from us! I want my mommy back! ”
Alexander completely froze, his face turning an absolute pale white as he frantically tried to cover the child’s mouth. “Sophia, stop it! This is…”
‘Save your breath,” I interrupted, my voice perfectly calm. “I don’t hold a grudge against a child for speaking her mind. Besides, she’s entirely correct: I will never be her mother.”
“Alexander, even if your sacred icons could burn a million times over, I am never returning to th De Luca house. The space between us is filled by two dead bodies.”
A luxury Bentley pulled up smoothly to the curb. My closest friend leaned out of the window, waving a pair of boarding passes. “Hey Counselor, if you keep lingering on those steps, our flight at the airport is leaving without us.”
I nodded, opened the passenger door, and slid inside. The engine let out a sharp roar as the car melted into the New York traffic.
In the side mirror, the figures of Alexander and Sophia remained anchored to the asphalt, shrinking with every second. Until we took a sharp turn, and they vanished entirely from my universe.
My friend glanced over, a teasing smirk on her face, “So? Tell me you’re not secretly holding onto some lingering affection for the corporate prince. We’ve only gone three blocks; I can still pull a U-turn if you want to run back.”
I slowly shook my head. “No. You know exactly how deep my hatred runs. I’m simply reflecting on how brutal time can be.”
I had loved the twenty-three-year-old Alexander-the boy who would stand in a torrential downpour holding an umbrella over my head, terrified a single drop of rain would hit my skin. I had loved the partner who held me through the long, agonizing nights after my burning rituals failed, whispering that my value wasn’t tied to his family’s acceptance.
But I deeply despised the man who had discarded me the second Isabella returned. And I would always remember the thirty-year-old predator who had engineered a corporate trap that cost me my mother and my child.
The twenty-three-year-old Alexander was systematically executed by the thirty-year-old Alexander.
I turned my eyes to the window, watching the vast blue sky expand above the skyline. Throughout my life, I had begged God for answers, begged for a family crest, and begged for a home.
But standing on the other side of the storm, I finally understood the truth: your ultimate home is the strength you carry inside your own skin.
From this hour on, the world is wide, and I am my own god.
