CHAPTER 4 — THE MAN WHO CAME BACK TOO LATE
CHAPTER 4 — THE MAN WHO CAME BACK TOO LATE
The next morning, Madrid awoke to breaking news.
Every financial television channel interrupted its regular programming.
RICCI INTERNATIONAL ANNOUNCES THE RETURN OF ITS LEGAL HEIR AFTER TWENTY-FIVE YEARS OF ABSENCE.
My photograph appeared on screen.
Not the one from my wedding.
Not the smiling family pictures Marco loved posting online.
A formal portrait the board had taken only an hour earlier.
The caption beneath it read:
ELENA ISABELLA RICCI APPOINTED EXECUTIVE CHAIRWOMAN.
Within minutes...
The internet exploded.
"Who is Elena Ricci?"
"Where has the heiress been hiding?"
"How did nobody know Isabella Ricci had a daughter?"
News helicopters circled above the estate.
Reporters gathered outside the gates.
Telephones rang nonstop.
Meanwhile...
Marco was still asleep.
His phone vibrated across the bedside table.
Then again.
Again.
Again.
Finally Sofia groaned.
"Answer it."
Marco reached blindly for the phone.
"What?"
His assistant sounded terrified.
"Sir..."
"What now?"
"Turn on the television."
"I'm busy."
"You won't be after you see this."
Annoyed, Marco switched on the TV.
The remote slipped from his hand.
On every channel...
My face.
My full name.
Elena Isabella Ricci.
Then the number.
Estimated family fortune:
€2.8 billion.
Marco sat frozen.
"No."
The reporter continued.
"The newly revealed heiress attended her mother's funeral yesterday before assuming leadership of one of Spain's largest investment groups."
His face turned white.
Sofia slowly sat upright.
"What... what is this?"
Marco didn't answer.
His breathing became uneven.
"It can't be."
The reporter continued.
"Sources confirm that Isabella Ricci intentionally concealed both her wealth and her daughter's identity for decades due to historical security concerns."
Marco grabbed the remote.
Changed channels.
Same story.
Another channel.
Same story.
Everywhere.
Elena Ricci.
Elena Ricci.
Elena Ricci.
"No..."
His whisper barely escaped.
Sofia looked at him.
"You divorced her yesterday."
He stared at the television.
His mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
Then he remembered.
The cemetery.
The divorce papers.
The apartment.
His laughter.
His words.
That baby will grow up poor.
A wave of panic swept over him.
"No..."
He reached for his phone.
Dialed my number.
Blocked.
He tried again.
Blocked.
Again.
Blocked.
His hands started shaking.
"Call her."
Sofia frowned.
"She blocked me too."
For the first time in years...
Marco Vega looked genuinely afraid.
At the estate, I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows watching reporters gather beyond the gates.
"I don't want revenge," I quietly admitted.
Alessandro stood beside me.
"No?"
"I wanted my husband."
"And now?"
I rested both hands on my stomach.
"Now I want peace for my son."
Alessandro nodded thoughtfully.
"Then let justice do the work revenge never could."
Before I could answer, the head of security entered.
"Ma'am..."
"What is it?"
"Mr. Marco Vega is at the front gate."
I closed my eyes.
"So soon."
"He insists this is all a misunderstanding."
I laughed for the first time in weeks.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was pathetic.
"What else did he say?"
The guard checked his tablet.
"He says he still loves you."
Silence filled the room.
Then Alessandro asked gently,
"Would you like to see him?"
I looked down at the wedding ring still resting on my finger.
Slowly...
I removed it.
Placed it on the table.
And smiled without warmth.
"Tell Mr. Vega..."
I paused.
"...that Elena Vega died yesterday."
I slipped the ring into Alessandro's hand.
"Only Elena Ricci lives here now."
Outside the gates, Marco waited with flowers in one hand...
May you like
Completely unaware that the next five minutes would cost him far more than a marriage.
They would cost him everything he had spent five years trying to steal.
