He Strayed, I Slayed: Don Husband's Downfall

Giovanni Santoro, Don of the Santoro family, had reserved the entire banquet hall at Skyline Convention Center for a university student named Valentina Conti.

Every major figure in the city had gathered—all to celebrate the 19th birthday of Giovanni's new mistress.

Everyone said he had genuinely fallen in love with Valentina. Yet, as Donna Santoro, I was the last to know.

That morning, the news was on television.

The reporter, clearly with ill intent, asked, "Ms. Conti, with an event this grand, aren't you worried Donna Santoro will hear about it?"

Valentina smiled, innocent yet bold. She pulled Giovanni close and planted her red lips on his cheek. Then, she winked at the camera. "Who will be Donna Santoro in the future? That's anyone's guess."

Silence fell over the room as the camera shifted to Giovanni.

He showed no anger and made no move to stop her. Instead, he let out a low chuckle, raised his hand, and slowly rubbed the lipstick mark on his cheek. It looked as though he were savoring it or indulging her.

I calmly took a sip of my coffee and commented, "No wonder Giovanni didn't come home last night."

Beside me, my best friend, Angela De Luca, was visibly more furious than I was. "She's humiliating you in front of everyone, and you're just sitting here?"

I shrugged, unconcerned.

"Our marriage was an alliance. There was never any real love," I replied. "As long as the Santoro family's power, money, and influence end up in my hands, I could find more mistresses for him and deliver them to his arms."

Angela looked at me, a flicker of compassion crossing her eyes.

We had been friends for over a decade. So, she knew better than anyone just how much I loved Giovanni back in my teens.

He was the only one I wanted to marry. I had thrown everything away for him, leaving myself with no way out.

…

That afternoon, Giovanni almost barreled through the door. His wool coat was wrinkled, and his collar was crooked. The perfect composure he always carried had vanished.

He was on the phone, his voice low and strained as he said, "Valentina has been abducted. Find out who did this. Use every contact we have, and I want names before tonight."

Once the call ended, Giovanni turned, and his gaze finally fell on me.

But in the next second, his hand was around my throat, merciless and unrelenting. "You'd better not let me find out it was you, or I won't forgive you."

The air was instantly sucked from my lungs. My throat tightened, and my chest gave way before I even realized I was suffocating.

I used to get jealous whenever Giovanni had mistresses. I'd even make a scene in front of them. Yet, all I got in return was being locked in a room to think about my behavior.

Over time, I learned not to make a fool of myself.

Just as my breath grew ragged and my vision began to blur, Giovanni's phone rang.

"Don Santoro, we've confirmed it. The Messina family took Valentina as a hostage. They're demanding a ceasefire."

Hearing that, Giovanni slowly loosened his grip on my neck.

The Messina family was the Santoros' sworn enemy. For years, the two sides had been at each other's throats, locked in a bloody feud with debts that could never be repaid.

Giovanni had spent eight years planning this final operation. Countless lives, resources, and favors hung in the balance tonight.

On the other end of the line, his underboss said urgently, "Don Santoro, we've spent eight years preparing this. Everyone's sacrifices must not be in vain."

After a brief silence, Giovanni finally spoke.

"Call it off. Valentina's safety comes first," he said without hesitation.

I looked at him, but my thoughts involuntarily drifted back to many years ago.

When I first started dating Giovanni, I had been taken by a rival family as well. They called him, threatening, "Hand over the arms business, or we'll kill her."

Back then, he simply said, "I won't hand it over even if you kill her. This was built on my men's blood and sweat."

Later, they realized I held no leverage over them and lowered their guard, giving me the chance to finally escape.

When I returned, I cried and told Giovanni how terrified I had been.

But he sighed impatiently. "Being with me is inherently dangerous. I'm Don of the Santoro family. Are you sure you still want to be with me?"

Back then, I loved him too much. So, I agreed without a second thought.

I never imagined that principles could be broken so easily, yet it wasn't for me.

With no feelings left, all that mattered was profit. After all these years of marriage, it was time to end it.