Don’s Frenzy of Regret After Her Death

In the Italian underworld, everyone knew Alexander was a cruel Don, but he gave all his tenderness to me.

However, the day after our wedding, he stripped me of my dignity as the Donna .

He was convinced I pushed his pregnant mistress, Elena, down the stairs out of jealousy.

Six months ago, Alexander was drugged by a rival family. Elena appeared, saved him, and got pregnant.

That night, she took a bullet for him during the retreat and almost lost the baby.

Her family considered her a disgrace and kicked her out; her fiancé called off their engagement.

Alexander felt guilty toward Elena, but he loved me.

To reassure me, he swore he would give Elena a large sum of money and send her to Switzerland, never to appear before us again.

"Ivy, why can't you tolerate her?" Alexander choked me, his eyes full of disappointment and rage. "She saved my life! I already promised to send her away. Why are you so vicious to an unborn child?!"

Elena lay in the hospital bed, pale as a sheet. "Alex, don't blame Ivy... She didn't mean it. She was probably just upset about staying in the maid's room and scrubbing the floors, so she pushed me... It's my fault for being spoiled. I'll move to the maid's room right now."

That ignited Alexander's fury.

To punish me, Alexander gave my room to Elena for her recovery. I was thrown into a damp, dark maid's room and ordered to scrub the entire manor's hallway floors on my knees.

By the end of the day, my knees were swollen and in agonizing pain.

Late at night, the door was pushed open.

Alexander walked in. He looked exhausted.

He sat on the edge of the bed. Without a word, he reached out to pull up the hem of my skirt.

"Don't touch me!" I shrank back, struggling to kick him away. "Alexander, are you crazy? Go find Elena!"

"Stop moving," he commanded, his voice low and hoarse. He easily suppressed my struggling legs with one strong hand and forcibly lifted my skirt up to my thighs.

My knees were exposed to the dim light—they were hideous, red, swollen.

Alexander's movement paused. The cold hardness in his eyes instantly cracked, replaced by a flash of heartache.

He opened a jar of premium ointment he had brought with him. He scooped out a generous amount and applied it to my wounds.

"Hiss..." I gasped.

"Bear with it. It will help with the swelling," he whispered. His large, rough hand massaged my knees with surprising gentleness.

"Ivy, why must you be so stubborn?" He looked at my bruises, his brow furrowed in pain. "Next time, don't touch Elena. I owe her a life, and the child is innocent. I have to repay that debt."

I looked at him coldly, feeling nothing but desolation. "So, you still think I pushed her."

"The evidence is there," Alexander said, avoiding my gaze, but his grip on my calf tightened possessively. "But listen to me. No matter what happens, Elena will never threaten your position. You are my wife. Once the child is born, I will send her away immediately. She means nothing to me."

I turned my face to the wall, closing my eyes to hide the dead look in them. "Get out, Alexander. I'm tired."

I didn't want to hear his promises anymore. My heart was already dead.

Sensing my indifference, Alexander lingered for a moment, then let out a heavy, helpless sigh against my ear.

He leaned down, burying his face in my neck, inhaling my scent greedily like a drowning man.

"Don't be like this, Ivy," he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. "You know I only love you. Always. Only you."

The old Alexander would panic if I even frowned. But now he told me not to harm his mistress's child.

I remembered the night before the wedding. He held my hand before the priest. "I, Alexander, pledge my loyalty to Ivy on the family's name. If I betray her, may I die by a thousand arrows."

Overnight, everything changed.