Dear Don, I Died for Another Man

"You haven't stepped foot out of this apartment in seven days. Don't you have anything to say to me, Davina?"

The door pushed open, and Bastian's deep voice echoed behind me.

I set my book down and turned around. The new boss of the underground empire was looking down at me. His suit was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rose perfume.

It was Moriah's signature scent.

Seven days ago, he married her in a lavish wedding. They invited New York's elite, and everyone knew how much he adored her. Meanwhile, I—the "wife" who had taken bullets for him and bled to put him on that throne—stayed in this apartment.

Even though we had a marriage pact, I was now nothing more than a mistress kept in the dark.

"I don't have anything to say, Bastian," I gave him a flawless smile. "I know you have your reasons for your decisions. I don't mind."

My obedience made him frown. He stayed silent for a long moment, looking annoyed, before finally choking out, "Good."

"I told you from the start, Moriah is the one I love."

I just kept smiling and nodded.

Bastian's face darkened even more. Suppressing his anger, he ordered coldly, "Bring it in."

Two of his men walked in, placing exquisite boxes on the table. Inside were incredibly rare, top-tier Lingzhi mushrooms.

Before he could speak, I said, "Looks expensive. Do you need me to brew it and send it to Moriah?"

Dead silence. Bastian's voice dropped dangerously low.

"What did you just say?"

"Don't you think this is my way of compensating you?"

I shook my head. "I wouldn't dare overstep. Such rare tonics belong to the Don's wife."

One of his men hesitated. "Miss Bianchi, this is actually—"

"Good. Very good," Bastian's cold laugh cut him off.

His face was livid, his dark eyes swirling with inexplicable rage. Was he actually mad? I was being perfectly compliant, not making things difficult for him at all.

"Davina, you think this passive-aggressive act will make me feel guilty?" he gritted out, glaring at me.

"I'm not being passive-aggressive." I met his gaze calmly. "I just know my place."

My "understanding" seemed to pierce him like a needle. His chest heaved, breathing heavy, as if he had punched a brick wall.

"Since you know your place so well and want to serve her so badly, go brew it! By sunset tomorrow, I want to see you hand it to Moriah yourself!"

"Understood."

He stared at me for a few more seconds, then spun on his heel. The door slammed shut with a deafening crash.

I looked at the closed door and let out a long breath.

My maid, Lily, ran out of the kitchen, her eyes red. "Ma'am... aren't you sad?" she choked out, looking at the herbs. "You went through hell and back with the Boss. How can he humiliate you like a servant?"

I smiled, picked up the mushrooms, and headed to the kitchen. "Why would I be sad? We just used each other."

Lily didn't get it. I didn't care about his compensation, nor did I care about being the Don's wife.

I was the true missing heiress of the Bianchi family. When they brought me back, it wasn't to make up for lost time—they just needed a pawn.

Back then, Bastian wasn't the Don yet. His position was unstable, and he lived on a knife's edge every day. They didn't want their beloved Moriah taking that risk, but they needed the alliance. So, they forced me to marry him.

They threatened me with the life of the person I cared about most: my childhood friend, Wynn. Wynn was my neighbor when I lived with my adoptive mother. After she died, he was my only family, and my love.

To keep Wynn alive, I took the deal. I married Bastian in Moriah's place, took the bullets and betrayals of the mafia world for her, and helped him seize power.

In exchange, my family gave me a black-market pill to fake my death, promising me freedom once it was over.

Life after marriage was exactly as dangerous as expected. Ambushes, shootouts, setups. I got hurt countless times and was poisoned more than once. But I never complained. I managed everything around Bastian perfectly, playing the flawless mafia wife.

When he needed a blood transfusion, I was the first to volunteer. When a rival family set a trap for him, I took the bullet.

Somewhere along the line, rumors started spreading that I was madly in love with him. I couldn't explain myself. I just wanted to help him secure his throne so I could finally go find Wynn.

Now, it was all over.

The stove flickered to life, the broth bubbling in the clay pot. I watched the steam rise and touched my chest.

Seven days ago, on the day Bastian married Moriah, I took that pill.

Five more days.

"Miss, it's ready," Lily's voice pulled me back.

I nodded and poured the hot broth into a thermos. "Get the car ready. We're going to the Howard estate."

In five days, the pill would fully kick in. Then, I would leave this cage and Bastian behind forever.