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Chapter 6

Penulis: Cher
"No! This isn't real!" Damon crawled after Sofia, grabbing for her leg. "I'm Vanessa's husband!"

"Were." She kicked him off. "Duffel's got the rags you showed up with. That's all you ever brought to the table."

Chloe just stood there, frozen. Shock. Fear. Reality finally hitting—her golden boy was nothing but a fraud.

"Vanessa!" Damon screamed at the camera. "You can't do this! We were married three years!"

"Three years?" My voice cut through the speaker, ice-cold. "You earn any of it? The house? The rides? The drip? Even your old man's still breathing 'cause you wore my ring. It's done. Everything goes back where it belongs."

His face drained, like he was watching his own funeral.

Sofia slammed the divorce papers to his chest. "Sign it. Our principessa ain't got time for clowns."

Then we walked. Left them in the dirt.

***

Damon stormed back to the mansion he once shared with Vanessa, heart pounding. No way she'd really cut him off like this. Not after everything.

She used to
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  • Divorce, Mafia Princess Style   Chapter 10

    "If Damon dies, you die too."Marco passed on Vanessa's message like he was reading a grocery list.Chloe got dumped back into that filthy apartment. Damon was sprawled on the floor, groaning.His legs were snapped in ways they shouldn't be. Bent. Broken. Done."This is the dream life you promised me?" Chloe snapped, pointing at him. "You look like roadkill!"Damon lifted his head, eyes unhinged.Pain and ego had finally cracked him."This is your fault!" he howled. "You ruined me, you slut! If you hadn't come on to me—""Me?" Chloe fired back. "You chased me! You said Vanessa was just some spoiled rich girl!""Shut up!" He tried to get up, but just flailed helplessly. "Get me painkillers. Now!""We're broke." Her voice was hollow."Then beg! Steal! I don't care!" he yelled, completely losing it."Why should I?" She crossed her arms. "Why would I listen to you?""Because I'm your man!" His eyes lit up wild. "You're supposed to do what I say!"After that, the place turned

  • Divorce, Mafia Princess Style   Chapter 9

    Damon was at the Cortese gates, knees banging the stone, voice shot from begging."Vanessa, I was wrong. I was completely wrong!"Three days without food had gutted him. Hollow cheeks. Wild beard. Not even a shadow of the man he used to be."Please, just give me one more chance!" He sounded like a cracked record. "I'll do anything. I swear!"The guards didn't flinch. They knew this circus wasn't for them—it was for me."It was her fault!" he cried. "Chloe set me up! She played me, used me, twisted everything I said. I see it now—you're the only one that ever mattered!"The gates creaked open. I stepped out like the queen I was.Sofia shadowed me. Dante sauntered behind."Vanessa!" Damon lit up like some lost soul seeing heaven. "You're finally willing to see me!""Get up." My voice flat.He scrambled to his feet, legs shaking like Bambi on ice.Then he clocked Dante."You again? Who the hell's this?""Dante's an upgrade. He's my new 'business partner.'""Partner?" Damon's

  • Divorce, Mafia Princess Style   Chapter 8

    "Not one damn reply..."Damon stared at his phone. Inbox dead silent. He'd hit up every guy from his dad's crew—begged, practically—but no one even left him on read. Guys who used to suck up to him? Gone.Then it hit him. Cortese Holdings. Technically, he was still on payroll. Fifty grand a month to breathe.He called HR."Mr. Russo?" The voice was ice. "Your position was terminated yesterday."His gut dropped. "What? I'm on the board!""Not anymore. If you have questions, contact Legal."Click.Damon sat there, the dial tone buzzing like a fly in his ear.Nothing. He was officially no one.Footsteps came from outside.The door creaked.Chloe dragged in, arms full of greasy takeout bags from her fast food shift."I'm back," she mumbled, drained."Finally!" Damon jumped up. "Get me some water. I'm dying."She froze. "I was on my feet for eight hours. My legs are killing me. Get it yourself.""I'm a man," he snapped. "A woman should take care of her man.""A man?" Chloe

  • Divorce, Mafia Princess Style   Chapter 7

    "I want my cut!"Damon burst through the glass doors, voice bouncing off the polished walls.That grand was toast in three days. Now he couldn't even scrape together enough for a drive-thru burger.He showed up ready to collect what he thought he was owed. Three years of marriage had to count for something, right?It was peak lunch hour. Heads swiveled.Whispers rippled through the room. Everyone knew who he was—the disgraced ex of the Cortese heiress.Damon didn't even blink at the stares. He headed straight for the private room in back—Vanessa's usual spot. Swanky, quiet, perfect for royalty like her."Sir, you can't—" a waiter stepped in."Move!" Damon snapped, shoving the guy into the wall.He kicked open the oak door. It crashed against the wall with a boom.Then he stopped cold.***I was at the dining table in a sleek black dress, sitting across from a man Damon didn't know.Dante looked around thirty, sharp jawline, dressed in a clean-cut black suit that screamed m

  • Divorce, Mafia Princess Style   Chapter 6

    "No! This isn't real!" Damon crawled after Sofia, grabbing for her leg. "I'm Vanessa's husband!""Were." She kicked him off. "Duffel's got the rags you showed up with. That's all you ever brought to the table."Chloe just stood there, frozen. Shock. Fear. Reality finally hitting—her golden boy was nothing but a fraud."Vanessa!" Damon screamed at the camera. "You can't do this! We were married three years!""Three years?" My voice cut through the speaker, ice-cold. "You earn any of it? The house? The rides? The drip? Even your old man's still breathing 'cause you wore my ring. It's done. Everything goes back where it belongs."His face drained, like he was watching his own funeral.Sofia slammed the divorce papers to his chest. "Sign it. Our principessa ain't got time for clowns."Then we walked. Left them in the dirt.***Damon stormed back to the mansion he once shared with Vanessa, heart pounding. No way she'd really cut him off like this. Not after everything.She used to

  • Divorce, Mafia Princess Style   Chapter 5

    "Please, please—let us go!"I stood outside the container, eyes on the monitor.Damon was on his knees, shirt soaked with blood, one arm hanging useless.Chloe crouched next to him—hair a mess, face wrecked, bruises blooming through ripped clothes."I messed up, Vanessa. I know that now." His voice cracked. "I'll do whatever you want.""No more arguments. I swear." He glanced up at the camera, tears clearly fake.I tapped the folder in my hand, smirking at the performance.Three days ago, this guy was yelling for a divorce.Now? On his knees, begging like some pathetic stray.What a joke."Anything?" I said through the intercom, my voice bouncing off the steel walls."Yes! Anything!" Damon nodded like he saw a way out.That flicker of hope in his eyes—he really thought I was going soft.Sad. He still didn't get it."Even if I sell Chloe to the Mexican cartels as a plaything, you'd be cool with that?"Silence.Just the wind shaking the container and waves crashing in the

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