Vito’s gaze softened, but the truth in his words was sharp and cutting. “He’s gone, Celia. He’s not coming back. Marco’s leaving you for her—for Victoria. She’s pregnant, and he’s chosen her.”
I stumbled back, grabbing the wall for support. “No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “That’s impossible. Marco and I have been married for five years. He promised me. He loved me.”
Vito’s jaw tightened, his hesitation barely masking his resolve. “Celia, your marriage… it wasn’t what you thought. It was a business arrangement, a contract. Marco didn’t marry you for love. He married you for power—to solidify his position and secure the Moretti name. You were part of his plan, not his heart.”
The words struck me like a physical blow. I sank onto the arm of the couch, my hands trembling. “No,” I croaked. “That’s not true. We built a life together. He said he loved me.”
Vito stepped closer, his voice softer now but no less devastating. “Your father arranged it before he died. The marriage wasn’t for you—it was for what you represented. Marco needed your family’s name, your connections. And now, with Victoria carrying his child, he’s ended the façade. He’s moving on with her.”