CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE FALSE DIVORCE
Julian had spent eight months believing his wife had abandoned him.
He had replayed the night in his head more times than he could count.
The empty bedroom.
The letter.
The missing phone.
The untouched passport.
The wedding ring left behind.
He had convinced himself Elena had made a decision.
A cruel one.
A final one.
She had chosen to disappear.
She had chosen to leave him alone with questions.
She had chosen to let him believe their marriage had meant nothing.
Now, standing inside the abandoned Rossi winery, Julian finally understood something terrifying.
He had never been abandoned.
He had been deceived.
And whoever had created the illusion had been very careful.
Too careful.
The letter.
The bank transfers.
The security footage.
The false sightings.
Every piece of evidence had pointed toward the same conclusion.
Elena had left willingly.
But there was one problem.
Julian had never seen the original divorce documents.
He had only been told they existed.
And that suddenly mattered.
Very much.
At 4:38 a.m., Julian returned to Rossi Holdings.
Marcus Hale was still awake.
He looked up as Julian entered.
“You found her?”
“No.”
Marcus immediately stood.
“What happened?”
“Someone manipulated my marriage.”
Marcus frowned.
Julian placed the photograph of the supposed divorce papers on the desk.
“I need every legal document concerning Elena.”
Marcus examined it.
“This is a divorce filing.”
“Supposedly.”
“You don't believe it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Julian stared at the signature.
“Because Elena would never sign this.”
Marcus enlarged the document.
“Could be forged.”
“I know.”
“But there's a court seal.”
“That's what bothers me.”
Marcus looked at him.
“A forged document with a real seal.”
Julian nodded.
“Someone didn't just forge my wife's signature.”
“They had access to the legal system.”
“Yes.”
Marcus opened another database.
“Give me ten minutes.”
Julian waited.
Five minutes.
Seven.
Nine.
Then Marcus stopped typing.
“I found the case.”
Julian stepped closer.
“What?”
“Case number 6841.”
“Divorce?”
“Yes.”
“Filed by Elena?”
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
Julian's eyes narrowed.
“Then who filed it?”
Marcus turned the screen.
“An attorney representing you.”
Julian stared.
“My attorney?”
“Your former attorney.”
“Name.”
Marcus hesitated.
“Jonathan Reed.”
Julian recognized the name immediately.
Reed had been his family's lawyer for nearly fifteen years.
He had handled contracts.
Trusts.
Acquisitions.
Estate planning.
And Julian's marriage agreement.
Julian's voice became cold.
“Call him.”
Marcus dialed.
No answer.
Again.
Still nothing.
Then a message arrived.
Mr. Reed is unavailable.
Julian looked at the screen.
“Where is he?”
Marcus searched.
Then looked up.
“Zurich.”
Julian's blood ran cold.
“Of course.”
The same city.
The same place where Elena's mother and Julian's son were supposedly hidden.
Julian stared at the divorce file.
“Open it.”
Marcus did.
The petition was dated eight months ago.
The exact day Elena disappeared.
Julian read the first paragraph.
Irreconcilable differences.
The second:
Emotional abandonment.
The third:
The petitioner requests dissolution of the marriage without contest.
Julian's stomach turned.
“Without contest?”
Marcus nodded.
“That's unusual.”
“Why?”
“Because Elena would have been entitled to significant assets.”
“How much?”
Marcus calculated.
“Depending on the terms, potentially hundreds of millions.”
Julian stared.
“She walked away from all of it.”
“Yes.”
“Which is exactly what they wanted me to believe.”
Marcus scrolled further.
Then stopped.
“Julian.”
“What?”
“There is a settlement agreement.”
Julian read it.
His blood ran cold.
Elena had supposedly agreed to receive nothing.
No property.
No spousal support.
No access to family trusts.
No claim against Rossi Holdings.
And one final clause:
The wife waives all future claims concerning any child born during or after the marriage.
Julian's face went white.
“She would never sign this.”
“No.”
“She didn't.”
Marcus looked at him.
“You're sure?”
Julian pointed at the bottom.
“Look at the signature.”
Marcus zoomed in.
Julian whispered:
“That isn't her signature.”
Marcus nodded.
“I know.”
“But there's more.”
“What?”
Marcus pointed to the date.
“The settlement was signed three days before Elena disappeared.”
Julian froze.
Three days.
Before she vanished.
Before the letter.
Before the supposed abandonment.
Which meant someone had prepared the divorce before Elena had even disappeared.
Julian's mind raced.
“This wasn't a divorce.”
“No.”
“It was a trap.”
At 5:17 a.m., Marcus found another document.
A notarized authorization.
It gave Jonathan Reed permission to act on Elena's behalf.
Julian stared at the signature.
“Fake.”
Marcus nodded.
“But the notary is real.”
“Who?”
Marcus checked.
Then his expression changed.
“Your father's private notary.”
Julian laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
He leaned against the desk.
Everything had been coordinated.
Richard.
Reed.
The notary.
Someone inside the court system.
The bank.
The security company.
Maybe even Camila.
Julian suddenly understood the real purpose.
They hadn't simply wanted Elena gone.
They wanted Elena legally erased.
If the divorce went through, Elena would lose her legal position inside the Rossi family.
Her claim to the trust would disappear.
Her children could be disinherited.
And Julian would be free to marry someone else.
Someone like Camila.
The plan was elegant.
Cruel.
And almost perfect.
Except for one thing.
Elena had never signed.
At 6:02 a.m., Julian drove to the courthouse.
He demanded the original file.
The clerk refused.
“Sir, these documents are sealed.”
“I am the husband.”
“Not legally.”
Julian stared at her.
“What?”
The clerk looked uncomfortable.
“According to the record, you are divorced.”
Julian felt the floor disappear.
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
“No.”
She checked the screen.
“Final judgment was entered eight months ago.”
“Who signed it?”
“The judge.”
“Where is the judge?”
“Retired.”
“Name?”
She gave it.
Judge Arthur Bell.
Julian remembered him.
His grandfather had known him.
Richard had donated to his campaign.
Julian's stomach turned.
“How was Elena notified?”
The clerk looked at the file.
“By certified mail.”
“To where?”
“The Rossi residence.”
Julian shook his head.
“She was living there.”
“According to the return receipt, she signed for it.”
Julian's eyes narrowed.
“Show me.”
The clerk hesitated.
Then printed the record.
Julian stared at the signature.
It looked like Elena's.
Almost perfect.
But not quite.
There was something wrong with the final letter.
He remembered.
Elena always finished her signature with a long upward stroke.
This one stopped abruptly.
He whispered:
“It's fake.”
The clerk looked nervous.
“I can't comment.”
Julian looked at the date.
The letter had supposedly been delivered at 7:41 p.m.
Julian knew exactly where he had been.
He had been downstairs with Richard.
And Elena had been upstairs.
But more importantly—
he remembered seeing the mail.
Nothing had arrived that night.
He had personally collected it.
Someone had fabricated the delivery.
Julian suddenly remembered something else.
A housekeeper.
Mrs. Bell.
She had been working that night.
Julian called her.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Mr. Rossi?”
“Did you deliver mail to Elena the night she disappeared?”
Silence.
Then:
“No.”
Julian's heart stopped.
“Why not?”
“Because Mr. Richard told me not to.”
Julian closed his eyes.
“What did he tell you?”
“That Elena wasn't supposed to receive anything.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
Mrs. Bell began crying.
“He said she was leaving.”
Julian's voice hardened.
“When did he tell you?”
“Three days before.”
Three days.
The same day the divorce settlement was supposedly signed.
Julian whispered:
“Who was with him?”
“I don't know.”
“Tell me.”
“There was another man.”
“Who?”
“I didn't know his name.”
“What did he look like?”
Mrs. Bell hesitated.
“Gray eyes.”
Julian froze.
“Victor?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“He had the same eyes as Mr. Richard.”
Julian's blood ran cold.
His father's eyes.
The man from the envelope.
The name Elena had written:
MATTEO ROSSI.
His grandfather.
Alive.
Julian returned to the mansion.
The house felt different now.
Every hallway seemed to contain a secret.
Every photograph looked like evidence.
He went straight to his father's study.
Richard was waiting.
“You found the divorce papers.”
Julian stopped.
“You knew.”
Richard didn't deny it.
“Yes.”
“You forged them.”
“I protected the family.”
“You destroyed my marriage.”
Richard poured a drink.
“You destroyed it yourself.”
Julian laughed.
“You really believe that?”
Richard turned.
“Elena was dangerous.”
“She was my wife.”
“She was carrying a child who could destroy everything.”
Julian stepped closer.
“You mean the trust.”
Richard's face hardened.
“You know nothing.”
“I know enough.”
“You think the trust belongs to your son.”
“It does.”
Richard smiled.
“No.”
Julian froze.
“The trust doesn't belong to your son.”
“Then who does it belong to?”
Richard looked at him.
“Your grandfather.”
Silence.
“Your grandfather never transferred ownership.”
Julian's expression changed.
“But the documents—”
“Were created to make you believe that.”
“Why?”
“Because your grandfather knew you would eventually become a threat.”
Julian stared.
“My own grandfather?”
Richard nodded.
“He never trusted you.”
Julian's face hardened.
“You're lying.”
“Am I?”
Richard opened a drawer.
Then placed a folder on the desk.
Inside was an old photograph.
Julian's grandfather.
Richard.
A much younger Julian.
And another man.
Matteo Rossi.
Julian stared.
His grandfather.
Alive.
But there was something else.
A handwritten note.
THE HEIR MUST NEVER KNOW THE TRUTH UNTIL THE SECOND BIRTH.
Julian read it twice.
“The second birth?”
Richard said nothing.
Julian's eyes narrowed.
“Three children.”
Richard's expression changed.
For the first time—
real fear appeared in his eyes.
Julian stepped forward.
“What does Elena's third child have to do with the trust?”
Richard whispered:
“You don't understand what your wife has been carrying.”
Julian looked at him.
“The baby?”
Richard shook his head.
“No.”
He pointed toward the photograph.
“Your grandfather planned for three heirs.”
Julian's heart stopped.
“Three?”
“Yes.”
“And Elena has three children.”
Richard's silence answered him.
Julian understood.
The children weren't simply heirs.
They were keys.
Three separate legal beneficiaries.
Three separate trust structures.
And together—
they could overturn everything Richard had built.
Julian grabbed the folder.
“Where is Elena?”
Richard looked away.
“I don't know.”
“Where is my son?”
Silence.
“Where is my daughter?”
Nothing.
Julian slammed his hand against the desk.
“WHERE ARE THEY?”
Richard finally looked at him.
“Ask your grandfather.”
Julian froze.
“He's alive?”
Richard smiled bitterly.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Zurich.”
The same city.
Again.
Julian turned toward the door.
Richard called after him.
“You won't like what you find.”
Julian stopped.
“Why?”
“Because Matteo didn't order Elena's disappearance.”
Julian turned.
“Then who did?”
Richard's face became expressionless.
“Elena.”
Julian stared at him.
“You're lying.”
“She left because she wanted you to hate her.”
“Why?”
“Because she believed you would be safer without her.”
Julian's anger faltered.
Richard continued:
“She knew the divorce was fake.”
Julian froze.
“What?”
“She knew.”
“How?”
“Because I showed her the papers.”
Julian stared.
“Then why didn't she expose you?”
Richard's voice dropped.
“Because I gave her a choice.”
“What choice?”
“Sign the divorce.”
“Or?”
Richard looked directly into his son's eyes.
“I would kill the children.”
Julian stopped breathing.
For eight months, he had believed Elena had abandoned him.
But she hadn't.
She had sacrificed herself.
She had allowed him to hate her.
She had allowed him to believe she had walked away.
Because she believed that was the only way to keep their children alive.
Julian's eyes filled with tears.
“All this time…”
Richard said nothing.
Julian whispered:
“She didn't leave me.”
“No.”
“She was protecting us.”
“Yes.”
Julian looked at his father with absolute hatred.
“You made me hate the woman I loved.”
Richard's face remained cold.
“I made you survive.”
Julian walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Where is the original divorce agreement?”
Richard's expression changed.
“What?”
“The real one.”
“There isn't one.”
Julian smiled.
For the first time since Elena disappeared, it was a smile without sadness.
“You're lying.”
He turned.
“Because if Elena was forced to sign anything, you kept the original.”
Richard said nothing.
Julian stepped closer.
“And I know where you would hide it.”
Richard's face went pale.
Julian walked out.
Behind him, Richard whispered:
“Don't go to Zurich.”
Julian didn't stop.
“Why?”
Richard's voice broke.
“Because Matteo isn't waiting for you.”
Julian turned.
Richard looked terrified.
“He's waiting for Elena.”
Julian froze.
Then his phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
One photograph.
Elena.
Standing beside Matteo Rossi.
Alive.
And beneath the photograph:
THE DIVORCE WAS NEVER THE PLAN.
A second message appeared.
THE PLAN WAS TO MAKE JULIAN HATE ELENA LONG ENOUGH FOR HIM TO SIGN AWAY THE CHILDREN.
Julian stared at the screen.
Then came the final message.
YOU HAVE TWENTY-FOUR HOURS.
He looked up.
The mansion was silent.
For eight months, he had believed his marriage had ended.
Now he knew the truth.
The divorce had never been real.
The abandonment had never happened.
The hatred had been manufactured.
And the person who had benefited most from Julian believing Elena was gone—
was not Richard.
It was someone who had been waiting patiently for Julian to sign away his own children.
May you like
Someone who already had the next document prepared.
And at the bottom of that document was Julian's name.
