After I Died, the Mafia Don Finally Remembered He Once Loved Me

Before the gunshot, I never once imagined I would die like that, wretched, under a bridge.

The pain of the bullet tearing through me lasted only an instant.

I kept thinking that if I could just hold on until Vito got there, I would be saved.

As my mind blurred, I saw him reaching out to me, complaining fondly that I was throwing another little tantrum, running away from home again.

I closed my eyes and blamed him for caring about nothing but his Family meeting while he left me out in the cold.

You used to take me to every meeting you had.

At those meetings, you introduced me to everyone as your fiancée.

No matter how busy you were, you always answered my messages.

You said the Family mattered less to you than I did.

When I opened my eyes, I saw my own body slumped against the stone wall, eyes shut, my white dress soaked red by the blood that had poured from my chest.

My phone was buzzing and the screen was lit. I reached for it on instinct, but my fingers passed straight through it. I froze for a second, and only then did I understand that I had been dead for a while already.

I had died with nobody to care, under a deserted bridge. I had died while waiting for Vito to come save me.

The screen lit up again. Vito’s messages came through: [Waiting for me to save you?]

[Stop lying. Like anything would ever happen to you.]

[Get back here.]

I wasn’t lying.

I said it out loud to myself. “So I really am dead.”

From the moment Vito became Don five years ago, his enemies had their eyes on me. Threatening letters became routine.

Whenever I felt unsafe, I called Vito for help.

The Vito of three years ago would already have been at my side, holding me until I calmed down.

Now he didn’t believe me anymore. He said I was oversensitive, that I imagined people were out to get me.

Because I was timid by nature, from the day I met him I finally felt safe. He was steady, mature, meticulous about everything.

Afraid I would be bored, afraid something would happen to me, he assigned me dozens of bodyguards just to go out.

If I said I missed him, that I wanted to see him, he would fly in by helicopter.

Every single time. He spoiled me rotten. I even sat in on his meetings, right beside him.

And I would say, like a brat, “We’re having the wedding in the conference room.”

With all the elders watching, I hugged his arm and wheedled, “I want it in the conference room.

“Otherwise I won’t marry you.”

Vito smiled gently and kissed my forehead. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Then, afraid he had upset me, he changed his tune. “Fine, whatever you want, okay? Give me a smile.”

I didn’t say anything. I looked at him for a long moment and gave him a sweet smile. If time could have stopped right there, how good that would have been.

But everything changed the day he met Vivian, the “perfect lady.”

At that party, Vivian moved through the room with flawless manners, toasting the guests, making small talk, greeting Vito with an elegant smile.

That same day I had received a threatening letter. Whoever wrote it swore they would kill me. I fell apart after reading it and begged Vito to protect me.

He lowered his voice and told me to go back to my room and rest. I clung to his sleeve and wouldn’t let go.

He lost face in front of everyone, and for the first time he snapped at me, “Antonia, why can’t you make things easy for me the way Vivian does?”

After that, he stopped bringing me to the conference room and stopped answering my messages the second they arrived.

And when I teased him again about wanting to be married in the conference room, all he said was, “Stop it.”

I came back to myself and looked at my body. It was damp under the bridge, and at night there were insects. They were feeding on me.

At least I couldn’t feel it anymore.

While I was thinking that, a black cat jumped onto my body and started batting at my phone.