Chapter 2

Countdown: 5 days.

Dante left earlier and returned later than ever before.

Meanwhile, through dark intelligence leaks in the underworld, rumors about Don Dante intensified.

In those photos, Dante wore a well-tailored dark gray suit, solemnly escorting a woman in a black veil through the heavily guarded gates of a private estate.

The face behind the black lace veil was blurry, but I could still identify her as Nadia from her posture.

That afternoon, Lucy, the senior partner at my design firm, knocked on my office door.

"Ele, bring the design blueprints for the Grand Sovereign mansion renovation. We need to go to the Syndicate's downtown headquarters to sign the final contract with the client."

She leaned close and lowered her voice.

"I heard the new owner of this mansion is Don Dante's widowed childhood sweetheart!"

I nodded slowly, my mind wandering for a moment.

Everyone at the firm knew I was a top architectural designer in New York, but no one knew I was the secretly married wife of this legendary Don.

This new mansion and the design contract were Dante's gifts to comfort Nadia. He personally funded them and presented them to her.

Additionally, he also registered a new company under the name Nadia to facilitate her establishment in New York.

When we walked into the 47th-floor penthouse suite, Dante was already there.

He stood beside a leather sofa, holding a ribboned box from a top French patisserie, handing it to the woman sitting in a luxurious armchair.

Nadia.

The moment Dante turned and saw me, his tall frame froze completely. A rare flash of panic and guilt appeared in his deep green eyes.

Everyone in the room sensed something unusual.

A suffocating silence fell over the room.

Nadia looked back and forth between the two of us, with a subtle and playful smile on her lips.

"Who is this please? Do you know each other?" she asked softly.

Dante was about to speak, but I stepped forward first.

"My name is Elena. I’m the lead designer for this project. Don Dante and I were..." I paused, meeting his intense and complex gaze, "...college classmates in London back in the day."

With a flawless professional smile, I extended my hand.

Dante froze upon hearing this, then frowned at me, seemingly surprised that I took the initiative to distance myself from him.

I thought he would feel relieved, but I actually saw unease in his eyes.

When Dante first became the Mafia Don, there were many unresolved internal gang issues. Countless enemies were secretly watching him and everyone around him.

I was just a designer without any means of self-defense. If I became a target, I would be in extreme danger.

Thus, to protect me from his rivals, he had to hide our marriage.

Back then, he always held me gently to comfort me, his voice full of guilt and heartache.

"Elena, I’ve wronged you. But please believe me, this is all temporary."

"When the time is right, I’ll give you the grandest wedding and let everyone know you are my only Donna."

But now, he postponed our wedding again and again for another woman...

Dante cleared his throat, quickly regaining his cold authority.

He pulled out his pen and began reviewing the contract figures with ruthless efficiency.

"Lower the budget by another ten percent," Dante commanded coldly. His deep voice carried absolute authority, pushing our profits and bottom line to the extreme limit.

I always knew he was not only a feared Mafia Don, but also an extremely smart business tycoon.

I just never expected he would one day use his fierce business tactics against me.

Under the his intense pressure, cold sweat broke out on Lucy's forehead. After a moment's hesitation, she nodded.

"Okay, Don Dante. You live up to your reputation and know our limits completely."

Dante lowered his eyes, not daring to look me in the eye the entire time.

Nadia sat quietly beside him, sipping black tea, her eyes shining with silent triumph.

After the contract was stamped with the family seal, she stood up and untied the ribbon on the dessert box.

"Dante brought my favorite Black Forest cake. Let's share it to celebrate our collaboration," she said, reaching for the cake knife.

Suddenly, her face turned slightly pale. She let out a weak gasp and delicately supported herself against the table corner. "Ah... my head is getting dizzy again."

Dante held her almost instantly, holding her against his chest in a protective posture.

Without any hesitation, he turned to me, his voice urgent and panicked, "Elena, cut her a piece of cake. Her hypoglycemia flares up!"

I froze in place for a second.

A wave of painful, ironic memories flooded over me.

Once upon a time, Don Dante, the Mafia King who held immense power and blood on his hands, never let me do anything when we were alone.

In our private villa, he would personally cut my steak, peel my fruit, and gently wipe the cream off my lips with his thumb. The first bite of every dessert always belonged to me alone.

He once whispered in my ear that taking care of his wife was his highest honor.

Now, he personally commanded me to serve his childhood sweetheart in public.

Lucy noticed my distraction and tried to step in to cut the cake for me.

I stopped her, quietly picked up the silver knife, neatly cut a rich piece of cake, and pushed it gently in front of Nadia.

"Please enjoy, Miss Nadia."

Nadia held her forehead and looked at Dante for help.

He hesitated for just a moment, then personally fed her the cake with a fork.

Nadia took a sip of cream from his hand and smiled at me.

I certainly could read the pride and provocation in her eyes, but watching their intimacy, my heart felt no wave of emotion.

Seeing my calm and submissive response, Dante felt as if an invisible hand were clutching his heart. He stared at me stubbornly, with his eyes filled with silent apologies.

I naturally shifted my gaze away and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

Fortunately, my heart no longer ached for Dante.