Vanished Wife: The Don's Mad Regret

"I didn't push Lina." My voice stayed calm. "She fell on her own and tried to pin it on me. Vincenzo, did you actually see me push her?"

Vincenzo hesitated, then said, "Even if you didn't, you shouldn't have argued with her. Today is her big day."

"Her big day?" I pointed at the plate of pasta, my voice suddenly rising. "She won this award with my recipe, lied her way into everyone's praise, and trampled over my work to get her 'big day'! You know the truth, and you're still going to protect her, aren't you?"

Just then, a server rushed in and announced, "Congratulations, Ms. Villo! Your tomato-basil pasta made the cover of a prestigious newspaper. Food critics are calling it this year's most stunning dish!"

Lina immediately beamed through her tears and nestled into Vincenzo's arms. "That's amazing! Vincenzo, I knew I could do it!"

He looked at her with a gentle smile I hadn't seen in a long time. It felt like an ice-honed blade driven straight into my heart. Then, when he turned to me, the smile vanished, and he said flatly, "You see how things have turned out. We can talk about the recipe later. You're coming home with me now."

"Home?" I laughed until tears spilled down my face. "How do you expect me to go back, Vincenzo? Am I supposed to watch you and her play the happy couple? Watch as my work is stolen from me? Watch as you two play me like a fiddle?"

"Isabella, mind your place!" Vincenzo growled, his voice cooling and carrying the authority of the Don. "This is the Villo family's banquet. Don't humiliate yourself with this scene."

"Humiliate myself?" I pressed a hand to my chest. "My biggest humiliation was marrying you! It's been five whole years, Vincenzo. Is there even room in your heart for me now?"

The murmurs around us swelled, and the Villo family's patriarch's face darkened. "Vincenzo, control your wife."

Vincenzo's expression turned stormy. He stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. "You're coming with me!"

"Let go!" I yanked free. A voice recorder slipped from my pocket and clattered to the floor, but I didn't pick it up. The evidence no longer mattered. The prelude to my test had already shown me everything I needed to see. "I'm not going back. We're finished from today on, Vincenzo. Whatever ties between us are severed!"

With that, I spun around and walked away.

Behind me came Lina's mockery. "Who do you think you are, Isabella? Without Vincenzo, you're nothing!"

I didn't look back as I strode straight out of the ballroom. Giuseppe's car was still waiting at the entrance. I opened the door, slid in, and finally let the tears fall.

The car was quiet. Giuseppe handed me a tissue. "Ms. Rossi, don't be upset."

"I'm not." I wiped my tears and said resolutely, "We'll proceed as planned at 8:00 pm tomorrow, in the old downtown. I don't want a single mistake."

He nodded. "You can count on me, Ms. Rossi."

As the car rolled away from Villo Estate, I pulled out my phone and opened Lina's social media feed. She had already posted a new update—a photo of herself with that plate of pasta. The caption read, "Hard work pays off. Thank you for the support, especially Vincenzo."

The comments were all congratulatory, and Vincenzo had liked the post.

I closed the app and tossed the phone aside. Most of my hope had already burned out. Only a small, foolish ember remained. It was just enough to carry me through one last test.