“That cannot be true,” I whispered. “He loved me.”

“He loved your access to the offshore trusts,” Dante said.

He pointed to a signature written in the margin of the ledger.

“This is Vanessa Hale’s signature.”

“Marcus’s attorney,” I said.

“She was not just his attorney,” Dante said. “She was the one who drafted the transfer of your family’s assets to Evelyn’s shell companies.”

My stomach twisted into a painful knot.

“Every cent of your father’s legacy went to fund their illegal operations,” Dante said.

“They used you, Alessia. From the moment Marcus first introduced himself to you.”

I felt the room tilt, and I had to grip the edge of the desk to keep from falling.

The marriage, the debt, the fear—it was all a calculated play.

“They wanted you broke, desperate, and dependent,” Dante continued.

“And when they were done, they planned to let the syndicate dispose of you.”

I stared at the floor, the truth wash over me like ice water.

“They took everything,” I whispered.

“Not everything,” Dante said.

He stepped closer to me, his voice dropping to a low rumble.