Leaving Him in the Dust

The Gambinos' special encrypted communication device hummed, and I heard Luca sighing in exasperation. "I've told the hospital to resume our mother's treatment, so behave and stop lying just to hoard money. I know it's difficult with your humble roots, but our treasury is not yours to siphon off."

Even as I listened, I was staring at my mother's lifeless body, covered under a white cloth.

"Yeah," I replied shortly, and put away the communication device to sign the divorce papers.

He must be thinking that I was throwing a tantrum by not asking him for money.

After all, I led the most undignified marriage with him, just to save my mother who had a heart condition.

I had no income because he forbade me from working, telling me that the Gambino Donna had no reason to work outside his house.

However, he also insists on putting me on a budget—every cent I spend must clear a very strict approval procedure by the family, whether I was buying bread, candles, or even wool socks for my mother.

And the approver was Lina, his secretary and his first love.

In fact, she was the reason I was subjected to such strict regulation, saying that a slumdog like me wouldn't understand how society worked, and that I married Luca for his money.

-

Three days ago, the Gambino-owned hospital sent me a notice of termination illness as my mother suffered a relapse of her congestive heart failure and needed surgery right away.

For Luca, the cost was equal to a gun in his vast armory.

But as I repeatedly called him anxiously, there was only an answer on the thirteenth time, and it was Lina who answered.

"What is it? Don Gambino is having a meeting with the other Dons."

My mother's doctor was urging beside me, "Hurry up. The patient's vitals are dropping, and we need to operate now or it'll be too late…"

"Just let me talk to Luca!" I cried, my voice cracking. "My mom's dying! I need the money!"

Lina simply laughed. "You know the rules. Submit an application, and I'll approve it. You know the Don hates being interrupted during meetings—you'll just get him upset."

And with that, the line went dead.

Having no choice, I took photos of the medical bill to attach to my application, making sure to zoom in on the cause, amount to be paid, and everything important.

After I sent it, I stared at the device screen fixedly, all while my heart tightened as the doctor kept pestering me.

Twenty minutes later, the device finally vibrated again—not with an approval, but that my application was rejected!

"The document is so blurry. Please upload it again," Lina's voice said from the other end.

I felt like all my blood had run dry right then.

Beside me, the doctor was stamping his feet anxiously. "The patient will die if we keep dragging this on…"