He Sent Me Away So I Took His Crown Chapter 10
Luca said nothing for a long time.
At last, all he managed was, “You’ve become someone I don’t even recognize.”
“You never recognized me in the first place.”
I hung up.
That night, Moretti’s advisers issued a statement to all allies, claiming the imprisonment had been a “misunderstanding of instructions” by two enforcers, and the fumigation an “equipment malfunction.”
The statement did not mention my status as Luca’s wife, and it did not apologize to me.
They were still trying to do what they had always done—wait for the storm to pass under the shelter of family silence.
I opened my laptop and pulled up ten folders from my personal archive.
The first time I was moved out of the main house was because Bianca needed a vintage engagement photo shoot with Luca to convince an undecided leader of their families’ alliance.
The second time, she claimed Matteo would attend a territorial celebration and wanted Luca beside her in the lead car.
The fifth time, she wanted to shoot a short film in the Moretti cemetery about “two bloodlines fated for each other,” and I was told to remove my wedding ring and the wife’s signet ring.
The ninth time, she moved Bellandi personnel into the main house while I ran a fever alone at the river house, and Luca never called once.
Every folder contained Luca’s messages, event briefings, my temporary lodging records, and orders to the guards changing room-access permissions.
I compiled all ten removals into a single timeline.
At the end, I added the church record, the sealed marriage certificate held by Vittorio, and the photo of Luca himself placing the wife’s signet ring on my finger.
The caption contained only one sentence:
*I am not an emotionally unstable employee. I am the wife the Moretti heir hid for eleven months and stripped of her status ten times.*
I did not send it to the police or the press.
I sent it to every leader and ally who had once treated Bianca as the future mistress of the Moretti family.
The internal channels went still for a few minutes.
Then the messages began to flood in.
*Ten events. The same woman occupying the wife’s seat every time.*
*She built the Moretti bloodline system from the ground up and still couldn’t even protect her own horse.*
*Before the so-called equipment malfunction, Luca explicitly ordered, “If she won’t apologize, don’t open the door.”*
Two of the Moretti family’s longtime buyers terminated their deals.
Three leaders refused to turn over their seasonal racing revenue until Vittorio appointed a new manager.
The cooperatives began contacting me, demanding new licensing contracts for the bloodline tools that had been listed under the Moretti name but were, in fact, copyrighted to me.
I didn’t retaliate against any ordinary employees, and I didn’t delete a single record.
I simply terminated the free authorizations and let everyone see, for the first time, exactly which systems belonged to me.
Late that night, Bianca’s father finally admitted before the council that there had never been any Vitale heir named Matteo negotiating an engagement with the Bellandi family.
Bianca had shown her father forged private messages and fake negotiation terms. The Bellandi patriarch had believed his daughter could secure an alliance with the Vitales, which was why he had repeatedly pressured Luca to help force the matter.
Leaving Chicago, withdrawing from the alliance, and all nine previous “crises” that required Luca’s presence to provoke Matteo—they had all been Bianca’s inventions.
She hadn’t been borrowing Luca to put on a show for someone else.
She had been testing, step by step, how far she could push me out of a wife’s place and how much Moretti power she could get away with using.