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홈 / Mafia / The Don’s Broken Vow / Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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Early the next morning.

Dante left in a hurry, claiming there was an emergency meeting with "The Commission."

I watched his retreating figure, picked up my phone, and made two calls.

The first was to Manhattan’s largest charitable foundation; the second was to a private jewelry appraisal house on Fifth Avenue.

I stepped into the study and double-locked the door.

Hidden behind a secret panel in the bookshelf was a safe with a code only I knew.

The door swung open, revealing no cash or weapons, but seven pieces of jewelry laid out in perfect order.

Before I married into the Moretti life, I was a jewelry designer.

Over the last decade, I had personally designed every symbolic piece Dante wore.

I had been naive enough to believe that these gems, into which I’d poured my soul, could lock our love together like a blood oath.

Now, every single one of them felt like a stinging slap to the face.

They weren't testaments of love—they were trophies of my own stupidity.

I brought them to the appraisers.

"Mrs. Moretti, these... these are museum-quality one-of-a-kinds."

The old appraiser, peering through his monocle, had hands that were visibly shaking.

"Are you certain you want to liquidate everything?

"You’ve requested that all funds be donated anonymously to the Brooklyn orphanages. This is enough money to buy half a block."

"Sell it all," I said, sitting on the leather sofa, my voice flat and devoid of emotion.

"Keeping a dead man’s belongings only brings bad luck."

Once the paperwork was finalized, I stepped out of the appraisal office, only to run straight into Sophia at the corner of the hallway.

She was decked out in a new white Chanel suit and towering stilettos, her blonde hair shimmering under the lights with a blinding glare.

She wore that nauseating, victor's smirk on her face.

"Well, if it isn't Mrs. Moretti. Oh, wait—the wedding hasn't happened yet. Legally speaking, right now you're just a... high-end nanny, aren't you?"

Sophia blocked my path, intentionally flaunting the ruby bracelet on her wrist.

It was a top-tier Pigeon’s Blood ruby that Dante had snagged at an auction six months ago.

I had practically begged him for it, wanting to use it as the centerpiece for our wedding anniversary gift.

At the time, he’d told me the stone’s "color wasn't good enough; it’s not worthy of you."

"Dante said this ruby makes my skin look so pale and perfect, he insisted I have it.

" Elena, you’ve designed so much jewelry; has Dante ever given you anything decent?"

Sophia leaned in close, dropping her voice to a sharp, venomous whisper.

"Then again, an orphan raised in the slums like you wouldn't know the first thing about being truly cherished.

"You’re just a hound Dante keeps around. He pats your head when you're obedient, but the second you aren't... he'll kick you to the curb."

I looked at her coldly.

Rage was screaming inside me, but my expression only grew more frozen.

"Sophia, for a mistress who’s so proud of her position，

"It seems your street-walking mother in Brooklyn never taught you the meaning of 'shame.'"

"Shame? How much is shame worth compared to the power of the Moretti family?"

Sophia let out a cold laugh and suddenly gave me a violent shove.

"Elena, you’ve held this spot for too long. It’s time to get lost!

"Dante can’t stay away from my body right now. How do you plan to compete with that?"

I braced myself, found my footing, and swung my hand back for a slap.

Crack!

The crisp sound echoed through the empty hallway.

"That," I said, "was to teach you how to shut your mouth."

Sophia clearly hadn't expected the usually submissive Elena to actually throw a punch—or a slap.

She was stunned for a second, then a flash of malice crossed her eyes. She let herself fall toward the marble floor with exaggerated force.

Clutching her stomach, her face turned deathly pale in an instant as she let out a piercing shriek.

"Ah! My stomach... it hurts so much... Dante, help me!!"

Just then, the heavy, hurried thud of leather shoes echoed from the end of the hall.

Dante appeared, his face a mask of pure anxiety.

He charged over. When he caught my icy stare, he visibly stiffened, a flicker of intense guilt and shame crossing his features.

But hearing Sophia’s shrill cries, he gritted his teeth and, without a second thought, shoved me aside.

"Elena, get out of the way!"

He used so much force that I was caught completely off guard, my body slamming back against the wall.
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  • The Don’s Broken Vow   Chapter 10

    One year later.Julian and I held a small, private wedding in Iceland.Only three people sat in the pews: The Cleaner, who had erased my identity; the old doctor who helped me nurse my health back; and my neighbor from the shop next door.Julian stood at the altar. He had traded the dark grey coats he usually wore for a sharp, jet-black suit."The Cleaner brought news from New York," Julian said in a low voice. He had no intention of keeping secrets from me, not even during the ceremony.Dante Moretti was gone—completely out of his mind.He was currently at St. Mary’s Psychiatric Hospital in Connecticut. The security there was tighter than it had ever been at the Moretti estate.The photos in the briefing showed the once-invincible Don wearing a blue hospital gown, skeletal and wasted away, clawing incessantly at a blank white wall. The doctors said he suffered from severe hallucinations and cognitive breakdown.He refused to eat. He spent every day by the window, screaming my name

  • The Don’s Broken Vow   Chapter 9

    The black sand beach of Vik looked like a scorched wasteland. The polar wind whipped fine grit against my face, stinging my skin.I heard a soft rustling behind me—the sound of leather shoes crunching over pebbles.I thought it was Julian.I was ready to turn around and smile, but then I caught a scent in the air. A faint mix of cheap hard liquor and aged cigars. I froze.That smell used to be my greatest comfort; now, it was a death sentence."Elena."The voice was low and raspy. I slowly turned around and saw the man who had once dominated my entire destiny.Dante Moretti stood less than five meters away.He had changed. The untouchable Don who ruled New York with an iron fist, the man who was always impeccably dressed, was gone. The man before me was skeletal. His once-bespoke suit hung loosely off his frame. His eyes were sunken, his jaw covered in messy stubble, and those eyes—once as sharp as a hawk’s—were now filled with a terrifying mix of madness and desperation."I finally

  • The Don’s Broken Vow   Chapter 8

    Julian stayed in Vik for another week. He didn't leave immediately like he said he would; instead, he used his connections within the FBI to filter out several waves of inquiries coming from New York.That afternoon, I headed over to his rented cabin carrying a thermos of freshly made lamb stew.Julian was sitting by the window. When he saw me come in, he closed his laptop and took the container from my hands."There's news from New York," he said calmly, ladling out the soup. "Dante isn't doing well. Ever since he moved into that lighthouse, the Moretti family’s operations have ground to a halt. The other families in New York have already started picking at his territory. The Commission is beyond pissed.""What about Sophia?""Loan sharks found her," Julian replied, his tone devoid of pity."Dante cut off every cent of financial support. She racked up a massive debt in Brooklyn. I heard she’s hiding out in a basement in the slums now, too terrified to even step outside."I remain

  • The Don’s Broken Vow   Chapter 7

    I spent six months in this small Icelandic town.I rented a wooden cottage facing the street and opened a flower shop."Welcome," I said without looking up, struggling to prune a bundle of thorny red roses."Elena."It was a gentle male voice, laced with a hint of disbelief.My hand jerked, and the sharp blade of the shears sliced right through my fingertip.I hadn't heard that name in half a year.I slowly raised my head. The man standing in the doorway wore a dark grey cashmere overcoat and a thick plaid scarf. There was a scholarly air about him that looked completely out of place against the rugged, frozen landscape.It was Julian.Back before I ever entered the Moretti world, when I was still attending that private high school in Manhattan, he was my seatmate. Back then, he was the only person who didn't shun me for being an orphan."You have the wrong person, sir. My name is Claire."Julian didn’t leave. He reached back and closed the door, his eyes cutting through the bouquet

  • The Don’s Broken Vow   Chapter 6

    I woke up in the cargo hold of a freighter heading for international waters.The Cleaner looked at me and said, "Dante Moretti found 'you' on a sandbar two miles downstream. He snapped on the spot—knelt in the mud clutching that corpse and refusing to let go. He even forgot to turn off the live-stream cameras.""Did he find the phone?""He did." The Cleaner let out a mocking smirk. "Arnold fished it out from the gap in your mattress back at the estate.The screen was shattered, but it still worked. Word is, when Dante saw what was in that album, he coughed up blood right then and there."I closed my eyes, practically visualizing the scene.He would see exactly how his mistress had been trampling on my dignity every single night while he was busy acting concerned for me."What’s he doing now?""He stormed the hospital." The Cleaner tucked away his butterfly knife."Half an hour ago, the Moretti private clinic was surrounded. He didn't bring any backup; he went in alone."At the More

  • The Don’s Broken Vow   Chapter 5

    Dante Moretti lost his bride in front of the entire world."Let me go! Let me go!"Dante roared, his body nearly dangling over the edge. His eyes were bloodshot, and he struggled like a maniac, trying to tear himself away from the grip of his bodyguards. His right-hand man, Arnold, held him by the waist in a death grip, even resorting to pressing a pistol grip against the back of Dante’s head to stop him from actually following me into that death zone.The live signal had been cut,but the image of the Don kneeling and wailing before the eyes of the globe had already become an indelible stain on the Moretti family’s honor.Dante stayed at the cliff’s edge for three days and three nights.He didn't eat. He didn't drink. He just let the rain soak through his black wedding tuxedo. He stood there like a soul-less statue, staring fixedly at the river downstream. Anyone who tried to approach was forced back by his murderous glare.It wasn't until the fourth day that the search and rescu

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