Chapter 5
Isabella finally spoke that evening.
Noah was asleep upstairs.
She sat across from Massimo in his library.
“I wanted out.”
Massimo said nothing.
“Not from you.”
She paused.
“Not exactly.”
The distinction hurt.
Isabella had grown up inside Lombardi power.
Bodyguards at school.
Drivers waiting outside dates.
Men lowering their voices around her father.
Family arguments becoming business problems.
Business problems becoming family threats.
When she married Grant, he promised her something she had wanted for years.
Normal distance.
A smaller circle.
Less visibility.
No Lombardi name attached to every room she entered.
“I asked him to help me separate things.”
“What things?”
“My work. Noah. Our home.”
Massimo stared at her.
“Why didn't you ask me?”
Isabella laughed softly.
“Because you would've said no.”
Massimo almost objected.
Then stopped.
She was probably right.
Grant began by doing exactly what Isabella asked.
He changed event listings.
Reduced family appearances.
Handled school forms.
Told staff she wanted fewer Lombardi relatives involved.
At first, Isabella was relieved.
Then the boundaries shifted.
Grant stopped asking.
Vanessa became more involved.
Appointments changed without Isabella knowing.
Passwords were updated.
Work emails were answered for her.
When Isabella complained, Grant reminded her:
“This is what you wanted.”
Massimo leaned forward.
“And the bruises?”
Isabella looked down.
“The first time was six months ago.”
Grant grabbed her wrist during an argument about Vanessa’s access to design files.
He apologized immediately.
Bought flowers.
Blamed stress.
Then it happened again.
And again.
Never before major events.
Never where clothing would not cover it.
Vanessa began helping.
Not hurting Isabella directly.
Hiding things.
Long sleeves.
Makeup.
Bracelets.
Excuses.
Massimo’s hands tightened.
“You told no one.”
“I told someone once.”
“Who?”
“Vanessa.”
Massimo stared at her.
Isabella smiled bitterly.
“She told me marriage was hard.”
May you like
Then she added:
“And she told Grant.”
