My Mafia Husband Regretted Everything But I Left Chapter 08
The day the platform released its findings, Sienna’s account was permanently banned.
Every course she had sold was refunded.
The people she had publicly labeled “high-control women” and “low-value partners” began filing lawsuits against both her and Cor Nova.
The Marchetti-owned company also received inquiries from regulators.
At a press conference, Dante admitted publicly that using his authority within the Marchetti Family Office to restrict my accounts, distributing my private recording, and approving the livestream had all been his decisions.
A reporter called out,
“Don Marchetti, do you believe Anna Sinclair’s death was connected to your actions?”
He was silent for a long time.
“Yes.”
“Whether there was direct medical causation is for experts to decide.”
“But when her daughter called me begging for help, I treated it like a power struggle.”
“That is a responsibility I will carry for the rest of my life.”
After the video went public, he sent me one message.
I’m not asking you to forgive me.
People simply deserve to know that you were telling the truth.
I didn’t reply.
When my mother’s notebook was finally returned, the blue leather cover had split.
Dante had sewn it back together with matching cotton thread.
The stitches were clumsy and uneven.
Inside the last page was a bank receipt.
He had created a legal-aid fund for victims in my mother’s name.
The first deposit was the full amount he received from selling the Long Island estate that had once been intended as our marital home.
Ezra looked at me.
“Are you taking it?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not worried he’ll think it means he still has a chance?”
“Compensation and forgiveness are two different things.”
I opened my mother’s notebook.
Half a line was still missing from the page Sienna had torn.
Dante had found an old article my mother had published years earlier in a neighborhood newsletter. He photocopied the missing words and carefully attached them beside the tear.
Listen to your own heart before you let anyone else tell you how to live.
In the blank margin of the copy, he had written one line.
I’m sorry, Anna.
I stared at it for several seconds, then removed the copied page from the notebook.
Ezra thought I was going to throw it away.
Instead, I placed it in an evidence bag.
“That’s his apology. It isn’t my mother’s writing.”
“I won’t let his remorse take up space that belongs to her.”
Outside the window, the platform released a second notice.
Cor Nova permanently removed all of its “relationship manipulation” assessments.
Dante resigned as the company’s chief executive.
The night the board vote became final, he sent me a single photograph.
An empty office.
On the desk sat the two unused appointment slips from City Hall.
On the back, he had written the date we were supposed to get married at City Hall.
When Sienna’s case went to court, Dante appeared as a co-defendant.
She tried to shift all responsibility onto the Marchetti company.
“I was only the on-camera host.”
“The case materials, recordings, and user data all came from Dante Marchetti.”
Dante didn’t argue.
Ezra submitted the recorded call in which Sienna expanded the account restrictions, her revenue-sharing contract for the course, and the backend records showing her edits to the data.
For the first time, Sienna’s expression changed.
“Those recordings are incomplete.”
A second piece of evidence appeared on the courtroom screen.
It was from the night of the livestream.
Sienna’s assistant had asked her,
“What if Selene’s mother really doesn’t make it?”
Sienna was touching up her lipstick when she answered.
“Even better.”
“Tragedy gets more engagement than a tantrum.”
A wave of shocked breaths moved through the courtroom.
Dante shut his eyes.
Sienna rushed to explain.
“I was evaluating content performance. I wasn’t wishing death on anyone.”
Then the Marchetti company’s risk-control manager testified.
“Don Marchetti’s original instruction was to restrict the accounts for twenty-four hours.”
“Miss Ross requested an indefinite restriction and specifically added that medical expenses and emergency-transfer costs were not to be released.”
“However, the final authorization still carried Don Marchetti’s signature.”
At last, responsibility landed where it belonged.
Sienna was ordered to pay massive damages for privacy violations, commercial misconduct, and malicious dissemination of private information.
Her flagship course was found to contain extensive plagiarism.
The million-follower account that had built her career disappeared overnight.
Dante was held jointly liable for damages and faced further investigation for abusing the account-management authority granted to him through the Marchetti Family Office and interfering with private-bank risk controls.
When the hearing ended, he called after me on the courthouse steps.
“Selene.”
I stopped.
He approached holding the sapphire necklace I had sold.
“I looked for this for a long time.”
“The pawnshop had already sold it. I paid the new owner three times what it was worth to get it back.”
I didn’t reach for it.
“It already paid for my mother’s funeral. It found a better purpose.”
Dante tightened his grip on the velvet box.
“What about what belonged to us?”
“What belonged to us?”
“Seven years.”
His voice was low.
“We built Cor Nova together. We chose a house together. We took our City Hall photos together.”
“When you had that fever, I stayed up all night with you.”
“I celebrated Anna’s birthday with her.”
I looked at him.
“So?”
“Does none of that count?”
“It counts.”
A faint light appeared in his eyes.
I continued.
“That’s exactly why I know you were capable of treating me well.”
“You simply chose me to lose every time it actually mattered.”
His eyes slowly reddened.
“I have nothing left.”
“The company. The house. My reputation. It’s all gone.”
“Selene, what else do you want me to pay?”
People passed us on the courthouse steps.
I took the necklace box from his hand.
He instinctively stepped toward me.
Then I turned and handed the box to the director of the aid program standing nearby.
“Auction it.”
“Use the money for emergency medical assistance.”
Dante froze.
The pigeon-blood sapphire flashed once in the sunlight before the lid closed over it.
I walked away without looking back.