I still got tens of thousands for it, but I didn’t feel the joy I used to when money hit my account. 

This wasn’t a war. This was my life. And in this life, there were no winners. 

Then I booked a small hotel right along the route to the Moretti estate. 

I didn’t have a real plan… just a hope. 

Maybe I could still get one last chance to see Dora. 

Maybe I could intercept them, talk to her without Maria around, just once. 

That night, I couldn’t sleep. 

I sat by the window, watching SUVs pass by on the highway. 

Every time one went by, I wondered, was that them? 

Had they already gotten there? 

Were they wondering where I was? 

Probably not. 

I don’t even remember how many hours I sat like that. 

At some point, my body gave up, and I fell asleep right there, still sitting by the window with my eyes half open. 

… 

The next night, around the time I figured the reunion party would be in full swing, I couldn’t help myself. 

I turned my phone back on. 

The second it lit up, it started vibrating like crazy nonstop. 

Dozens of missed calls. 

Luca. Maria. A bunch of numbers I didn’t even recognize. 

I thought I’d feel calm. 

I thought I was done with this. 

But seeing all those missed calls? I felt something crack in my chest. 

I thought I was ready to walk away. I wasn’t. 

And then Luca’s name lit up again. 

A voicemail came through. 

His voice, low and pissed: 

“Catrina, you’ve disappointed me. You want a divorce? It’s not gonna be that easy.” 

I stared at my screen in a daze. Same old Luca. Still acting like I was some naive little thing who’d obey just because he snapped his fingers.