For Her Sake, He Blew Our Family Apart

The lawyer informed me that the process to erase our identities would take two weeks. I only nodded, pretending calm. Two weeks — that was all Sofia and I needed.

We left the lawyer’s office that very afternoon, right after we laid Mateo to rest.

Now, we were back at the Cortez estate, performing our final act as the perfect family. Every smile, every word rehearsed. Because if Marco caught even a whisper of what I was planning — that Sofia and I were preparing to disappear — he would never let us leave alive.

The household staff still watched me with that same hollow pity. I didn’t bother returning their looks. They weren’t the reason I stayed.

On the first day, I began removing every trace of him from our lives — quietly, systematically. His favorite mug vanished from the cupboard. Every playlist he’d ever made me, deleted, including the one we’d danced to at our wedding.

By the second day, I painted over the bedroom walls, stripped the sheets, replaced the curtains, moved the bed to a different corner. Every piece of him erased, every memory repainted.

On the third, I opened the safe. Inside rested the antique watch I had given him on our first anniversary — the one he once swore would be passed down to our son. I took it and sold it to a collector abroad. It wasn’t about the money. It was the satisfaction of knowing he would never touch it again.

When I returned to the mansion, Sofia was waiting in the foyer. But she wasn’t alone. Marco sat there — and beside him, Natalia.

She looked fragile and delicate, draped on the couch beside him like a doll made of glass. Her fingers curled possessively around his arm as if she belonged there, her expression painted with sickly sweetness.

I tightened my grip on Sofia’s hand and started walking past them without saying a word.

“Stop.”

His voice was cold, sharp — a command that sliced through the air.

I halted but didn’t turn.

“Where’s the bastard boy?” Marco asked.

My hand twitched, but I kept my mouth shut. Not in front of Sofia. Not here.

“Where’s Mateo?” he pressed again, his tone heavier, darker.

I still didn’t respond. Sofia’s tiny hand gripped mine tighter. I looked down — her face was too calm for her age. Too practiced. I bent to her level, brushed a strand of hair away from her face, and whispered, “Let’s make something to eat, sweetheart.”

We turned for the kitchen. Before I could reach the doorway, his hand clamped onto my arm and yanked me back.

“Don’t ignore me,” he snarled. “You think you can act like nothing happened? Tell me where my son is!”

I tore my arm from his grasp.

“You told me he wasn’t yours,” I replied coldly. “So why ask now?”

His eyes darkened, fury swirling behind them — but before he could speak, Natalia’s soft, pitiful voice broke the silence.

“Marco, please… you’re scaring her.”

I turned to see her still playing the part — her hand clutching his sleeve, the other pressed to her chest as though the moment pained her fragile heart.

He softened instantly, brushing her hair back. “You always get anxious when I raise my voice,” he murmured gently. “You should rest.”

Then he kissed her forehead. Right there. In front of me.

Sofia didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound. Just stood silently beside me — a ghost of a child.

I turned away again.

“Isabella,” Marco said, his tone smooth now, deliberate. “Apologize to her. She’s been suffering since you abandoned her in Monochalie. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. You went too far.”

That stopped me.

I faced him, empty-eyed. “And if I don’t?”

Natalia straightened slightly, feigning humility. “It’s fine, Marco… I don’t mind,” she said sweetly, lowering her gaze. “Isabella’s still the lady of the house.”

Her voice trembled like a saint’s, but I caught the smug satisfaction beneath it.

“You’re too kind,” Marco whispered, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “From now on, I’ll make sure you get everything you deserve.”

Pathetic.

A maid entered quietly, carrying a cup. “Chamomile tea for Miss Natalia,” she said politely.

Her favorite. Of course.

I stood there, numb, detached, frozen in place. Then Marco’s phone rang.

“You always get headaches when I talk business,” he told Natalia gently. “I’ll take this outside. Drink your tea.”

And he left.

The moment the door clicked shut, her entire act dissolved. Sofia hid behind my leg. Natalia sat upright, eyes sharp, a smirk twisting her face.

“You see?” she said, her tone light, amused. “You sent me away, but he still chose me.”

I said nothing.

“He holds me now. Loves me now. You’re just a ghost wandering his house.”

I met her gaze, calm and unflinching. “If you want him, Natalia,” I said evenly, “then take him.”

Her face hardened. “I don’t need your permission,” she hissed. “I’ll have it all — him, this mansion, his name. Everything.”

Her voice cracked with anger just as Marco’s footsteps echoed outside. In a flash, she grabbed the cup of scalding tea and poured it over her chest.

Her scream split the air. Sofia cried out too, clutching me in terror.

Marco burst through the door seconds later. Natalia was on the floor, sobbing, drenched, clutching at her clothes.

His eyes snapped to me. “Isabella!”

“I didn’t touch her,” I said, my voice flat. “There are cameras. You can check.”

His face twisted with rage, but before he could speak, Natalia whispered through trembling lips, “It’s not her fault, Marco. I probably spilled it myself… I shouldn’t have come here. I’ll go.”

She tried to step away dramatically, but he caught her wrist. “You’re not leaving. I searched the world for you, and now you think you can walk out again? You want to kill me?”

Then he turned on me, voice sharp with command. “Lock them both in the basement.”

My heart dropped. I stepped in front of Sofia, arms wide. “Please—don’t punish her! Marco, she’s just a child! She’s been through enough!”

He didn’t even glance at me.

Natalia whimpered, clutching his arm like a broken doll. “You saw how she looked at me,” she whispered. “I can’t live like this. I’m scared she’ll hurt me again.”

“You’re lying!” I shouted. “You staged the whole thing!”

“Enough!” His roar silenced everything.

“Check the cameras, Marco!” I begged. “Please. You’ll see the truth.”

“There’s no need,” he said coldly. “She’s the only one I trust.”

My stomach turned to ice. Sofia’s tiny hand trembled in mine.

Natalia’s eyes gleamed. “Take them downstairs,” she said quietly. “No food. No water.”

“Wait!” I screamed. “Not Sofia! Do anything to me, but not her! She’s your daughter—”

“She’s not,” he interrupted, his voice a dead weight.

I froze. Two guards grabbed me from behind. Sofia screamed, clinging to me as they dragged us away.

“Mama! Don’t let them take us!”

“I’m here, baby,” I whispered through tears. “I’m not letting go.”

But they pulled harder. My knees scraped against the floor, my arms aching as I held onto her.

The basement door creaked open — dark, cold, unforgiving.

They shoved us in without a word. The metal slammed shut behind us, sealing us in the dark.