With the full weight of the law, not with spectacle.

With the full weight of the law, not with spectacle.
Ethan

I can't even remember what it was like to sleep without a lump in my throat anymore. It's been a month since this shit started crashing down on us, and to be honest, every day has been a test of endurance—not just mine, but Diana's, Gloria's, everyone close to us. I wake up thinking about her. I go to sleep thinking about her. And between coffee and a phone call, I think about Meredith. It's a weariness that corrodes me from the inside.

Right after the explosion in Santorini, I promised myself I was going to get her. Not with blind hatred, but with method. I learned quickly that anger alone doesn't hold anyone—proof does. That's why I assembled a team and personally took the reins. Not because I like to play the hero, but because certain things I can't delegate. Diana has suffered too much already. My obligation is to transform the fury into work.

The first step was to shield her. 24-hour security, new cameras, cell phone encryption, variable routes. They changed the drivers, we even changed the routes to go to the market. It might seem like an exaggeration—and it is an exaggeration—but remembering how a speedboat can explode and how life can turn to dust in seconds, the exaggeration becomes a necessity. I don't let anyone mess with its safety. Never again.

Parallel to this came the investigation. I hired two experienced detectives, one who understands how to trace dirty money, another who lives off police kisses and asks the right questions at the right time. I got an explosives expert who explained to me, with surgical calm, what an explosion like that leaves behind. I wanted everything: the smallest trace, the smallest bank transfer, the deleted conversation that someone thought couldn't be recovered. And, little by little, things started to appear.

They discovered small cash transfers, offshore accounts that served as conduits, and a wire connecting the pier's consulting firm to that consultant who "suggested" the trip. I found people making the classic mistake: thinking that money erases guilt. It doesn't. It only leaves a trace, and a trace is what we needed.

I went through a lot of hard work with prosecutors and the Federal Police. I called my contact in the economic crimes sector and, with him, pushed through some formal requests. The process became serious when the prosecutor's office opened an investigation and requested urgent measures. We froze the assets of suspected companies, requested account freezes, and asked for the lifting of confidentiality when necessary. All within the law—because I don't want this story to become another soap opera where she slips under some random skirt. I want a solution that doesn't leave room for appeal.

I won't lie: there were days when I wanted to destroy everything and go after her in a brutal way. But I thought about Diana. I thought about how that could open the door to worse things. I decided I would be cold and cautious—striking where it hurts most: finances, reputation, allies. The best revenge is the one that leaves the enemy without a base. I dismantled the structure that protected her, piece by piece.

Meanwhile, Interpol entered the game. It was surreal the first time I heard "INTERPOL" in a meeting—it's different from reading it in the newspapers. This means the investigation has moved beyond our area and become international. I requested cooperation from European authorities and the FBI to track travel, movements, and flight patterns. The truth is, Meredith has money and knows how to hide—that's why we had to use people who work with that kind of shadow. I didn't want police knocking on doors and creating panic; I wanted a silent investigation that would dismantle her escape.

This whole month has been filled with calls, meetings, and sleepless nights. I see Diana fading away little by little—she lives in the house, hardly ever goes out, watches the news all day looking for any clue. And I hate that. I hate having turned her life into a barracks. My guilt is immense. No matter how much we fight, her actions changed everything. So my number one priority besides the evidence was her emotional protection. I spoke with a psychologist, hired a trusted nurse for her mother, and reorganized the house to make it comfortable and safe. Sometimes, she just needs silence and someone to hold her hand. I try to be that someone.

There was also the legal side. We filed a complaint, followed every ruling, every request for preventive detention. When the judge signed precautionary measures and search and seizure warrants, I felt the machine really started moving. The problem is that she disappeared off the map. A fugitive. That frustrates anyone who likes quick results. But every time someone thinks they've seen Meredith and she disappears, a new thread appears to pull—an operator who received money, a bribed employee, a fake reservation. The investigation has become a game of patience and pressure.

Knowing that the press wants blood doesn't help either. There are reporters wanting statements, scoops, drama. I asked for silence. For now, we'll hold back what we need to hold back. Leaks now compromise everything. I've seen investigations go down the drain because of thoughtless posts. The media is a double-edged sword: It can help put pressure on her or it can screw her over. If it were up to me, I'd use it when necessary, cautiously and precisely.

And the anger? It doesn't go away. Sometimes it catches up with me in the middle of the night, when the house is silent and my head replays the flash of anger. I think about how someone could find it normal to order a boat to be blown up. I think about the lives that were almost lost. The couple that died. What Diana lost before she met me. The anger becomes fuel. But I've learned to channel it: I sign papers, request expert opinions, order investigations, tighten contracts, and choose the words that go before the judge. It's not as cinematic as I'd like, but it's what keeps people like her in check: proof by proof, knot by knot.

And there's the fear too. Fear that she'll act again, fear that someone within some institution will be bribed, fear that I won't be able to completely shield the family. That's why I reinforce security, that's why I change passwords, that's why I don't let Diana go to work. I know this suffocates her; I know she wanted to get back to her routine. But I prefer her routine/restricted life to a trip to the cemetery afterwards.

In my few free hours, I try to be a husband, not just a commander. I make coffee, try to get her off the couch, take her mother to dinner prepared by someone she likes. Small acts of normalcy. She laughs little, but she laughs. And I cling to that like someone clinging to a plank in the sea.

There have been concrete advances this month: witnesses who agreed to speak, an expert who called saying he found residue consistent with explosives used, transfers that were traced to an intermediary shell company. Each advance becomes a mini-victory, and each mini-victory gives the prosecutor ammunition to ask for more. We are in the phase of tightening the net: blocking resources, isolating allies, doubling the legal pressure. The idea is to make her environment unsustainable. Without money, without a network, she has less chance of remaining a fugitive for very long.

I have a strong urge to run away and settle everything by force—and I've already confessed this to a few on my team—but that's not the way to go. I don't want to turn this case into a spectacle. The best justice is the one that leaves no room for escape. That's why I insist on due process, expert analysis, and a judicial promise. I want her imprisoned and the case unassailable.

Finally, I promised Diana that I won't rest until she no longer has to wake up in fear. This promise guides me. Is it ego? Maybe. Is it love? Definitely. And it's also a commitment to the pain we've already witnessed firsthand. A month is both short and long. The road is long. But the difference between that day in Santorini and the life I want to reclaim is that now I leave nothing to chance. Work, pressure, evidence—and when justice tightens its grip, I want to be there to see her face when she realizes that all the tickets, all the routes, all the fortune that kept her free, have evaporated.

It's no longer about blind revenge. It's about security. It's about justice. And for it, I'll do whatever legal shit is necessary. And I won't stop until she pays for what she did—with the full weight of the law, not with a spectacle. Because if we do this right, no one will be able to buy back her absurdity. And that, in the end, gives me a little peace to sleep—when I can.