Chapter 6 - The Woman Adrien Could No Longer Order Home
Our divorce became final on a cold Tuesday morning in January.
There was no courtroom confrontation.
No dramatic testimony.
No reporters inside.
Rebecca sat beside me.
Adrien sat across the aisle with his attorney.
We did not look at each other until the judge asked whether our marriage was irretrievably broken.
“Yes,” I said.
Adrien waited half a second.
Then:
“Yes.”
The judge signed.
Six years ended with blue ink.
Outside the courthouse, reporters waited.
Rebecca swore.
“How did they know?”
“Adrien is famous.”
“Infamous.”
“That too.”
Security created a path.
Questions flew.
“Elena, did financial misconduct cause the divorce?”
“Are you receiving a settlement?”
“Is Victoria Hail responsible?”
“Mr. Moretti, do you regret ending the marriage?”
Adrien stopped.
I kept walking.
Then I heard him answer.
“Yes.”
One word.
I almost turned.
I didn't.
My settlement was straightforward.
Against my initial instinct, Rebecca convinced me not to surrender everything.
I accepted the fair value of documented contributions to two legitimate businesses I had helped restructure.
I donated part of the proceeds to a financial-literacy foundation.
I kept enough to buy my apartment outright.
Adrien offered the mansion.
I refused.
He offered my jewelry.
I accepted only family pieces that had been gifts with emotional meaning.
The sapphire necklace was not among them.
Adrien kept it.
I learned that later.
Three weeks after the divorce, Conrad Hail was indicted.
Victoria was not charged with the major fraud.
She had benefited from the structures and concealed conflicts, but prosecutors could not prove she participated in her father's broader criminal activity.
Her reputation was destroyed.
She moved to London.
Before leaving, she requested to meet me.
I almost refused.
Then curiosity won.
We met at a hotel café.
Victoria looked smaller without an audience.
No diamonds.
No perfect posture.
No calculated smile.
“Elena.”
“Victoria.”
She sat.
“I owe you an apology.”
“Yes.”
She blinked.
I did not make it easier.
“I was jealous of you.”
“I know.”
“Not because you had Adrien.”
That surprised me.
She looked down.
“Because you mattered without needing to be feared.”
I said nothing.
“My father raised me around men who respected power and ignored everything else. You walked into rooms quietly and somehow people listened.”
“They listened because I did my homework.”
Victoria smiled faintly.
“I know that now.”
I studied her.
“Did you want my husband?”
“Yes.”
At least she was honest.
“Why?”
“Because Adrien choosing me would mean I had won something my father respected.”
I almost pitied her.
Almost.
“You helped destroy my marriage to impress your father?”
“No.”
Her voice broke slightly.
“I helped weaken it because I wanted to prove I could.”
That was uglier.
More honest.
Victoria lifted her coffee.
“Adrien never loved me.”
“I know.”
“He barely liked me by the end.”
“That sounds like a personal problem.”
She almost laughed.
Then grew serious.
“He talks about you.”
My heart reacted.
I hated that.
“I don't want to know.”
“Fine.”
She stood.
“I am sorry.”
I looked at her.
“I believe you're sorry.”
Hope appeared in her face.
I continued.
“That doesn't mean I forgive you today.”
Her hope faded.
“That’s fair.”
Victoria left.
I never saw her again.
My own life became busy.
Cole Strategic Partners made me a partner six months after I returned.
Not because of Adrien.
Because I brought in two major clients and led a restructuring that saved four hundred jobs.
Nathan announced it at a company dinner.
This time, when everyone applauded, I did not say my team did all the work.
I stood.
Raised my glass.
And said:
“Thank you. I worked very hard for this.”
It felt terrifying.
It felt wonderful.
Adrien and I saw each other occasionally.
Family made complete separation impossible.
Lucia still invited me to birthdays.
Bianca refused to choose sides.
Matteo called me when he needed financial advice until I began billing him.
“You're charging family?”
“You're not technically family.”
“Cruel.”
“Pay the invoice.”
Adrien always gave me space.
At Lucia’s birthday, he stood on the opposite side of the room.
At Bianca’s baby shower, he asked before sitting beside me.
“Is this seat taken?”
I almost laughed.
The feared Adrien Moretti requesting permission to sit.
“It's free.”
He sat.
“How are you?”
“Good.”
“Work?”
“Busy.”
“Congratulations on partnership.”
I turned.
“How did you know?”
“My mother.”
That was believable.
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
No jealousy.
No complaint.
No comment about the travel.
We sat in strange, peaceful silence.
Then Bianca’s husband opened champagne badly and sprayed half the room.
I laughed.
Adrien laughed.
For one second, we were married again.
Not literally.
Emotionally.
The familiarity came so fast it frightened me.
I left early.
That night, Adrien texted.
It was good to hear you laugh.
I stared at the message for fifteen minutes.
Then replied:
It was good to laugh.
Nothing more.
He did not push.
Months passed.
Then the Moretti empire faced a threat unrelated to the Hails.
A major East Coast shipping alliance collapsed.
Not because of fraud.
Because Adrien’s old reputation had become a liability.
Banks were tightening compliance.
Insurers increased premiums.
Legitimate partners no longer wanted uncertainty.
Adrien did something nobody expected.
He began separating himself from the criminal side of the Moretti organization.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Dangerously.
Marco told me only what I needed to know.
Adrien sold interests.
Closed illegal operations.
Cut ties.
Moved legitimate companies under independent management.
It took nearly a year.
It cost him millions.
Some people called it weakness.
Others called it survival.
I knew what it really was.
Change.
One evening, Marco called.
“Elena.”
“What happened?”
“Adrien was shot.”
The world stopped.
I stood so quickly my chair fell backward.
“Where?”
“St. Catherine’s.”
“How bad?”
“Shoulder. Blood loss. He's awake.”
I grabbed my coat.
Then stopped.
Why was I going?
We were divorced.
He had people.
Family.
Security.
Doctors.
I stood frozen.
Nathan appeared at my office door.
“What happened?”
“Adrien was shot.”
“Go.”
I looked at him.
“I don't know if I should.”
Nathan frowned.
“Elena.”
“What?”
“Loving someone after divorcing them isn't a legal violation.”
My throat tightened.
I drove to the hospital.
Lucia hugged me the second I arrived.
“He's awake.”
“Who did it?”
“Old business.”
Of course.
I entered Adrien’s room.
He looked pale.
Bandage over his shoulder.
He smiled when he saw me.
“You came.”
I wanted to slap him.
Instead I burst into tears.
Adrien's smile disappeared.
“Elena.”
“You idiot.”
He laughed weakly.
“That feels familiar.”
I stood beside the bed.
My hands shook.
“Do you know how many times I imagined you dying when we were married?”
His expression changed.
“No.”
“Every late call. Every security alert. Every time Marco walked into a room with that face.”
“I didn't know.”
“Of course you didn't.”
He swallowed.
“I’m sorry.”
I wiped my cheeks.
“For getting shot?”
“For making fear part of loving me.”
That silenced me.
Adrien looked at the empty chair.
“You can sit.”
I did.
Neither of us spoke for a while.
Then he said quietly:
“I’m almost out.”
“Out of what?”
“The part of my life you always hated.”
I stared.
He explained.
Not details.
Enough.
He had spent eleven months dismantling criminal operations and moving legitimate companies into transparent structures.
“Why?”
Adrien looked at me.
“At first?”
“Yes.”
“Because I thought maybe it would make you come back.”
My chest tightened.
“And now?”
“Because even if you never do, I don't want to die in a hospital while everyone who loves me pretends this is normal.”
I looked down.
He reached toward me with his uninjured hand.
Stopped halfway.
Then let it rest on the blanket.
My choice.
I stared at it.
Then placed my hand in his.
Just for a moment.
May you like
It was the first time we had touched since our divorce.
Neither of us pretended it meant nothing.
