He Sent Me Away So I Took His Crown Chapter 01
I had been married to Luca Moretti for eleven months, and I had been forced out of the Moretti family estate nine times.
The tenth time, we stood outside the office of a Moretti family adviser.
In my hand was a signed marriage dissolution agreement.
In Luca’s and Bianca Bellandi’s hands were invitations to the annual auction and tribute banquet.
On the invitation, they were dressed in matching evening wear, standing before the estate’s iron gates. Beneath the Moretti family crest was the headline—
*The Moretti heir will enter an engagement with the Bellandi patriarch’s daughter.*
“Elena, I’m sorry. I need to borrow Luca again for a few days.”
Bianca rolled up the invitation and tapped it against my arm, her smile unwavering.
“After Matteo walked out on our negotiations, he ran off to Miami and still refuses to see me. But if he sees the Moretti family is about to announce an engagement of their own, he’ll have to come back. It will also keep the truce between our families intact.”
Luca leaned against a stone pillar, the black suit sharp across his shoulders, clearly finding nothing absurd about the situation.
“If the Bellandi patriarch hadn’t asked me personally, I wouldn’t be helping her put on this show.”
His hand settled on the small of my back. His palm was steady, the same way it always was when he ordered men to lower their guns.
“The main house is hosting leaders from both sides. Go stay at the river house for a few days. I’ll bring you back after the banquet.”
He paused, then offered a promise he had already made too many times.
“Haven’t you always wanted to announce our marriage in the north garden? Once this is over, I’ll have my grandfather unseal the marriage record so every ally sees your name. Elena, I promise. This is the last time.”
Before I could speak, Bianca answered for me.
“She won’t mind. She lent me the seat of honor and the wife’s signet ring the first nine times, didn’t she?”
They laughed together.
The glass door of the adviser’s office reflected all three of us.
I was the one in the middle, the woman who was Luca’s wife on paper and in the eyes of the church, yet I looked more like a staffer who had come to help them finalize the banquet guest list.
The first nine times, I had questioned him, fought with him, demanded to know who had the right to sit at his side and who truly stood under the protection of the Moretti family.
This time, I touched the papers inside my portfolio and felt only a profound calm.
They didn’t know this wasn’t a temporary statement to cooperate with their staged engagement.
The moment the adviser filed it, my marriage to Luca would be over, and my name would be struck from the Moretti protection register.
They had no idea that after I left for the tenth time, I would not be coming back.
***
The stone steps outside the office were broad, perfect for photographers to capture the Moretti family crest in the same frame as the happy couple.
Bianca draped her white shawl over Luca’s shoulder and gestured for him to bend closer.
“Look at me,” she murmured. “Not at the camera.”
The shutter clicked a dozen times in rapid succession.
She lowered her head to review the photos, the silver-bell bracelet on her wrist chiming softly with each movement.
“This one’s good. Send it to the three families attending the banquet. Caption it—*Some engagements are twenty years late.*”
Luca gave a low laugh.
“Don’t overdo it. If Matteo really shows up with men behind him, I’m not cleaning up the bodies for you.”
“At least that would prove he still cares about the Bellandi family’s terms.”
Bianca leaned her head against his shoulder and had the photographer take another set.
I stood beside the equipment van, keeping an eye on Luca’s two armed men.
That was how it always went.
Bianca needed a fiancé who could dominate a negotiating table, and Luca could temporarily forget he was already married.
If I showed any sign of unhappiness, he would only frown and say, “She’s trying to salvage a ceasefire between two families. Why do you insist on making it about personal feelings?”
The first time, I fought with him until dawn.
The third time, I shoved my suitcase down the steps and demanded to know how much longer he planned to keep his wife hidden.
By the seventh, I had learned to leave two sets of duty rosters with the estate steward in advance and drive myself to the river house.
By the ninth, even the guards at the main gate knew not to ask when I’d be back.
Once the banquet ended and Bianca left, I would simply return.
Like an outer-circle member, ready to be removed from the family’s inner sanctum at a moment’s notice.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
The account marked only with the letter E had sent another message:
*Is this one real? If it is, the position I offered you two years ago is still open.*
Whenever word of another “split” between Luca and me rippled through our world, this person would ask the same question.
He never offered comfort. He never used the opportunity to attack Luca.
He only kept reminding me, over and over, that I had somewhere else to go.
I was staring at the message when Bianca walked over.
“Elena, are you heading back to the main house?”
Her tone was solicitous, but her hand came down on my car door before I could answer.
“The auction team and security are moving in tonight. The Bellandi staff will be arriving early, too. If any of our allies see you in the main house, Luca’s temporary engagement loses its deterrent effect.”
I looked at her.
The seating charts, the wine cellar, staff access, even the protocol for disarming each leader as they arrived—I had arranged all of it.
Now she was going to stand there as the heir’s fiancée, accepting toasts, and she expected me to stay out of sight.
“My things are still upstairs.”
Luca came up behind her.
“I had Teresa pack them. It’s the same river house as before. The heat’s on, there’s a car for you, and two guards are posted outside.”
He opened Bianca’s car door for her, his tone as detached as if he were assigning an ordinary task.
“Just four days. Once Matteo shows up and Bianca settles the real engagement, I’ll come get you myself.”
The first nine times, he’d said he would come get me, too.
But every time, it had been me checking photos of the estate online to confirm Bianca was gone, then dragging my own suitcase back.
“All right,” I heard myself say.
Luca visibly relaxed.
I took off the main house key and the black-and-gold signet ring that granted a wife access to the inner hall, and set them in his palm.
“But this is the last time. Once I leave—”
“The banquet advisers are here!” Bianca called from the car. “They want to inspect the oath platform in the north garden first.”
Luca turned immediately.
“Coming.”
He shoved the keys and ring into his pocket. Only before getting into the car did he glance back at me. “Write down what kind of public ceremony you want. Once Bianca’s business is done, we should have ours.”
The car sped off in a swirl of dust.
No one asked how I was supposed to leave this stretch of Moretti-controlled private land now that the auction team had requisitioned every estate vehicle.
I opened a rideshare app. My finger hovered over the screen for a long moment before I switched back to the message from E.
I replied:
*It’s real.*
Less than ten seconds later, my phone rang.
The man’s voice was low and steady.
“Elena Mercer.”
He paused, then added, “I’ve been waiting eight years to hear you use that name again.”