The Donna Left，The Don Went Crazy

At the family’s most prestigious gala, my husband—the Don, Alexander—arrived with his secretary, Elena, on his arm.

Pinned to her chest was the ruby brooch that symbolized the position of the donna, the mistress of the family.

Before I could even speak, Alexander glanced at me with casual indifference. "Ivy, don't be so petty."

He wiped the corner of his mouth elegantly with a napkin, his tone suggesting this was entirely reasonable.

"Elena took a bullet for me. She liked the brooch, so I let her borrow it for a while. Regardless, you are the only donna here. Try to show some class."

Elena touched the brooch with a coy smile, her eyes provoking me. "Yes, Ivy. The Don said the red suits me better. It’s just a brooch; surely you don't mind?"

Alexander looked at her with indulgence, then turned to me with a promise.

"If you're upset, I’ll bid on a bigger diamond for you at the auction next week. Just be a good girl and don't make a scene in front of the family."

I looked at his feigned affection and felt nothing but coldness.

I had been married to Alexander for three years. Everyone feared his ruthlessness, but he had always been incredibly gentle with me.

But ever since Elena took a bullet for him during a shootout six months ago, everything changed.

It started with care born of guilt, but it evolved into bottomless indulgence.

Even on our wedding anniversary, during a candlelight dinner, one call from Elena crying about pain in her wound made Alexander abandon the half-cut cake without hesitation. He left me alone with a table full of cold food until dawn.

Last month, when I had a fever of 102 degrees and was shivering under the covers, I asked him for a glass of water. Just then, Elena called, claiming the thunder terrified her.

Alexander put on his coat without a word, dropping a "take your medicine" before rushing out into the storm.

He always said she got hurt saving him, so I had to be accommodating.

I put down my knife and fork. "Since she likes it so much, she can have it."

I slid my wedding ring off my ring finger. Along with a divorce agreement I had prepared long ago, I slid them down the long table until they stopped in front of Alexander.

"Including this seat next to you. I’m giving that up, too."

The smile on Alexander’s face froze. His deep blue eyes darkened instantly, radiating a dangerous chill. "Ivy, this isn't funny. Are you threatening me in front of the Capi?"

I looked at him calmly. "I'm not joking. Sign it, Alexander."

He stared at me intensely, trying to find any sign that I was playing hard to get.

After a long silence, he scoffed, grabbed a fountain pen, and signed his name on the agreement.

"Fine. If you want to play the runaway wife, go ahead."

He slammed the document onto the table, his eyes full of disdain. "You are just an orphan. Without the protection of our Family, you won't last three days in Sicily. I’ll give you a week to regret this foolish stunt. Don't come crawling back to me crying."

In his eyes, I was just an accessory that couldn't survive without him.

I took the document and stood up to leave without saying a word.

Alexander didn't even look back at me. He continued to chat and laugh with Elena, convinced I was just throwing a tantrum.

Back at the estate, I took out an encrypted satellite phone I hadn't used in three years.

Alexander didn't know that I wasn't an orphan. I was the youngest daughter of the oldest Mafia family in Europe.

But my family and Alexander’s had always been enemies. To marry him, I had changed my name and even severed ties with my father and brothers.

The call connected. I took a deep breath and whispered, "Papa, I regret it. Send someone to pick me up in two weeks."