Chapter 3: The Truth Behind the Smile

Carlo didn't sleep that night.

The investigation file remained open on his desk until sunrise.

Every photograph of him and Valentina had been taken from impossible angles.

Someone had followed them for months.

That wasn't a coincidence. It was a carefully planned operation.

Marco entered the office carrying another folder.

"Boss, we questioned the photographer."

"Did he talk?" Carlo asked.

"Eventually. Someone hired him nearly eight months ago. His only job was to photograph you whenever Miss Valentina was nearby."

Carlo's expression darkened.

"Did he know who hired him?"

"No. Every payment came through anonymous offshore accounts."

Carlo leaned back in his chair.

"Someone wanted Isabella to believe I betrayed her."

Marco answered honestly.

"Or maybe they simply took advantage of the time you were already spending with Valentina."

Those words struck Carlo harder than he expected.

Marco wasn't wrong.

No one had forced Carlo to cancel anniversaries.

No one had forced him to ignore Isabella's calls.

Those had been his own choices.

"Find everyone connected to this operation," Carlo ordered.

"I want names."

"Understood, Boss."

Meanwhile, Isabella buried herself in work.

Her family's shipping business wasn't as powerful as the Romano empire, but it had always been built on honesty.

The familiar routine helped keep her mind busy.

"Miss Isabella, these inventory reports need your approval," one employee said.

"Leave them on my desk," she replied.

"And the warehouse contract?"

"I'll review it this afternoon."

For the first time in years, her schedule didn't revolve around Carlo's.

It felt strange.

Lonely.

But peaceful.

That afternoon, her childhood friend Elena visited.

"You've been ignoring my calls," Elena complained.

"I needed some time alone," Isabella answered softly.

Elena studied her face.

"You're not okay, are you?"

After a long silence, Isabella finally admitted the truth.

"I'm divorcing Carlo."

Elena's eyes widened.

"What happened?"

"I don't know if he physically betrayed me," Isabella whispered.

"But emotionally... I lost him a long time ago."

Elena reached across the table and held her hand.

"Then don't go back unless he truly changes."

"People apologize with words every day. Very few apologize with actions."

Those words stayed in Isabella's mind.

Back at Romano headquarters, Valentina stood alone inside the training room.

She fired round after round until every bullet struck the center of the target.

Another assassin walked over.

"You're distracted today."

"Am I?"

"The Don removed you from his missions."

Valentina lowered her pistol.

"His wife left him because of me."

"Because of both of you," the assassin corrected.

"Everyone saw how much attention he gave you."

Valentina remained silent.

For the first time, guilt appeared on her face.

That evening, Carlo drove to Isabella's parents' estate.

He didn't ring the bell.

He simply parked across the street.

From inside the car, he watched the warm lights shining through the windows.

He could see Isabella having dinner with her parents.

She was smiling.

It had been months since he'd seen that smile.

"Boss," Marco said quietly.

"Should we leave?"

"Not yet."

"Watching her from here won't fix anything."

"I know," Carlo admitted.

"I just wanted to make sure she was safe."

Inside the house, Isabella noticed the familiar black sedan parked outside.

She knew exactly who was sitting inside.

Without saying a word, she quietly closed the curtains.

Nearly an hour later, Carlo finally drove away.

For once, he respected the distance she had asked for.

The next morning, Marco rushed into Carlo's office.

"Boss, we traced the payments."

"Who was behind them?"

"Officially, no one."

"Unofficially... every transaction leads back to the Moretti family."

Carlo's eyes narrowed.

The Morettis had been the Romano family's enemies for decades.

"So this wasn't only about destroying my marriage," Carlo muttered.

"No," Marco replied.

"Someone wanted to weaken you by taking away the person you trusted the most."

Carlo closed the file slowly.

"And they succeeded."

Later that afternoon, Isabella was inspecting cargo at one of her family's docks.

Workers were unloading heavy containers from a cargo ship.

"Be careful with those cables," she reminded them.

Suddenly, one of the steel cables snapped with a loud crack.

"Miss Isabella!"

A massive container swung directly toward her.

Everything happened within seconds.

Someone rushed forward and shoved her out of the way.

The container crashed onto the concrete with a deafening explosion.

Dust filled the entire dock.

Isabella slowly opened her eyes.

"Carlo..."

He had thrown himself between her and the falling container.

A deep cut stretched across his forearm where the broken cable had struck him.

"You're hurt," she whispered.

"It's only a scratch," Carlo replied.

"You could have died."

"So could you."

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

Before Isabella could say anything else, Marco came running toward them.

"Boss! The cable didn't break on its own!"

"Someone cut it before the shipment arrived."

Carlo slowly turned toward the damaged crane.

His expression became colder than Isabella had ever seen.

"This wasn't an accident," he said quietly.

"Someone isn't trying to destroy our marriage anymore."

"They're trying to destroy Isabella."