Chapter 2

After hanging up, I didn't hesitate. I started packing immediately. Since I had decided to leave, I wouldn't leave anything behind.

The next morning, Alexander brought Elena back to the estate and went straight to the private underground armory.

"I'm taking Elena to the range. She needs a weapon for self-defense." Alexander saw me packing and offered a careless explanation, his tone still arrogant. "Still at it? Where exactly do you think you're moving to?"

I ignored him and continued folding my clothes into the suitcase.

Elena, however, walked straight to the display cabinet and picked up a custom gold Beretta—Alexander’s birthday gift to me last year. I used to practice shooting with it.

"Wow, this gun is gorgeous." Elena played with the weapon, the muzzle swaying intentionally past my forehead, a fake smile plastered on her face. "Oops, sorry, Ivy. My hand slipped. Since the Don is teaching me how to shoot, surely I can borrow this one for a bit?"

Looking at the black muzzle pointed at me, I didn't get angry; instead, I smiled.

In the next second, I clamped down on her wrist, executed a standard disarming maneuver to break her grip, snatched the pistol, and pressed it against her forehead.

My movements were fluid and shockingly fast.

Elena screamed, immediately switching to a terrified expression, and threw herself at Alexander, trembling. "Don! Save me! Ivy is trying to kill me!"

Alexander’s face changed dramatically. He grabbed my wrist and forcibly took the gun.

He shielded the trembling Elena behind him and glared at me. "Ivy! Are you insane? she was just joking with you, and you actually wanted to hurt her? I know you're jealous, but there’s a limit!"

I rubbed my aching wrist and looked at him coldly. "A gun is not a toy. Since she doesn't know how to hold it, I taught her a lesson."

Alexander’s eyes were sinister; he clearly thought I was being unreasonable.

He turned to a discard bin in the corner, dug out a rusty revolver, and tossed it at my feet.

"Since you like playing with guns so much, have this one."

It was a Smith & Wesson M10.

I froze.

Two years ago, I was kidnapped by a rival family. They had pointed this exact model of revolver at my head and forced me to play Russian Roulette.

That was the nightmare of my life. Alexander knew this. He had sworn to protect me and never let me see a gun like that again.

But now, to comfort his frightened mistress, he threw my nightmare at my feet.

"Stop making a scene and let Elena have the gold one," he said impatiently. "She saved my life. She deserves the best."

I looked at the revolver on the ground, and the last spark of affection in my heart was completely extinguished.

I bent down and picked up the gun.

Alexander thought I had compromised. He was about to speak when I turned and walked to the fireplace, tossing the gun straight into the roaring flames.

"Ivy!" Alexander was furious. It wasn't just a gun; I had challenged his authority as the Don. "You burned my goodwill over a stranger? I'll give you one more chance. Pick it up!"

The firelight from the hearth illuminated my calm face. I looked at Alexander and enunciated every word clearly:

"I don't pick up trash. Just like I don't recycle spoiled feelings."

"Alexander, you disgust me."

This was probably the first time I had ever used such words to describe him.

Alexander laughed out of anger, a storm brewing in his blue eyes. "Good. Very good. Ivy, since you want to be so tough, don't blame me for being ruthless."

"I gave you an out, and you didn't take it. Don't come begging when you hit a dead end."

With that, he turned and stormed out of the armory without sparing me another glance.

Elena didn't follow him immediately.

She stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at me with a sneer. Her pitiful facade vanished, replaced by a twisted look of triumph.

"Ivy, you really don't know your place." She stroked the gold gun Alexander had just given her. "So what if you're the rightful wife? We all know whose bed the Don sleeps in at night."

"How can a washed-up woman like you compete with me?"

I looked at her coldly. "You think a secretary who climbed the ladder by taking a bullet can last forever?"

Elena’s expression shifted, and then she revealed a bizarre smile.

"Forever is all I need."

Then, she leaned back and threw herself down the stairs!

"Ah—! Help! Don!!"

A blood-curdling scream echoed through the villa.

Alexander, who had just reached the door, heard the noise and rushed back like a madman.

He saw Elena lying at the bottom of the stairs, her head bleeding, and his entire body trembled.

"Elena!" He scooped her up and looked up at me standing at the top of the stairs, his eyes as cold as if he were looking at a corpse.

"Ivy... how could you be this vicious?"

"Just because of jealousy, you tried to kill the woman who saved my life?!"

I stood high above, watching this clumsy performance, feeling nothing but the absurdity of it all.

"I didn't push her," I said indifferently.

But in his eyes, my calmness was just unrepentant arrogance.

Elena weakly grabbed his collar, weeping beautifully. "Don't blame Ivy... I lost my footing... Don, please don't fight with Ivy because of me..."

She twisted the knife perfectly.

The disappointment in Alexander's eyes turned into utter loathing.

"Shut up. Don't beg for her."

He carried Elena in his arms. As he passed me, he coldly announced:

"My date for the annual Mafia Ball tonight will be Elena."

"Since you can't be a proper donna, I'll find someone who can."

With that, he walked away with the victor in his arms, never looking back.

I stood there, listening to the engine fade away, the final ripple in my heart settling into dead silence.

It didn't matter, Alexander.

After all, this was the last time I would ever watch you walk away.