The Donna's Choice

I slid the divorce papers across the desk to Dante, pretending they were just another family contract. He didn't even glance at them—just scrawled his signature at the bottom and kept going.

Half an hour until nine.

Nothing mattered more than family business.

I stared at the papers for a long time, dazed. I hadn't expected it to be that easy.

By the time I tucked the signed papers into my bag, Dante was stepping out of the bathroom.

He caught my movement and paused.

"It's just a contract. Did you really have to deliver it yourself?"

I blinked, then shook my head.

"No."

He frowned, clearly not following, but he just checked his watch and said impatiently:

"It's almost nine. Anything else you need to tell me?"

I hesitated for two seconds. Then shook my head.

"No."

He nodded, stepped forward, and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Good. Then goodnight."

And he was out the door.

I sat there for a while, zoning out.

Just as I was about to get up, Dante's tablet lit up—Alexa's call syncing across the screen.

And Dante—the man who never answered calls, never texted, never said a word after nine—picked up in one second.

Like he couldn't bear to make her wait.

I let out a quiet laugh, bitter and sharp. Because right now, Dante was being incredibly considerate. He had his exceptions. Just not for me. His wife.

I went back to the bedroom.

Lights off. In the dark, I glanced at my laptop screen—the hospital report that had come in. I froze.

It said I was two months pregnant.

I looked down, pressed my hand to my stomach, and sighed.

I'm sorry, little one.

Before you even get to meet your father—Mommy is taking you away.

The next morning, Dante was already back.

I gathered the documents I needed for my visa application, gave him a single glance, and headed for the door.

But as I passed him, Dante called out, bewildered:

"Nora—you're not tying my tie?"

I forced a small smile, barely curving my lips.

"No. You should learn to do it yourself." I paused. "Or have your Capo do it."

Dante set down whatever he was holding and walked over, frowning at me.

"You mean Alexa?"

His expression softened at her name.

He said:

"She does know how to tie one. Attentive girl. But what does that have to do with you doing it?"

I went quiet for two seconds.

I didn't know where to even start. Maybe not explaining was the cleanest way out.

"Nothing. I just don't want to anymore."

Dante seemed to sense something was off. He stepped closer, kissed my cheek.

"Nora, there's nothing between Alexa and me. Her father once saved my life—I promised him I'd look after her. Sweetheart, I only love you. Don't be upset. To make it up to you, I've booked a private yacht—South of France, Italy, wherever you want. Just the two of us."

I nodded. Dante deepened the kiss, pressing in until my knees went weak and I could barely stand. Then he pulled back.

"Oh, and don't bother bringing me lunch today. Alexa just messaged—she said she's got it covered."

I paused mid-motion, steadying myself.

It felt like being yanked out of a sweet dream.

I clutched the hem of my skirt.

"Okay."

Dante had a bad stomach from all the work stress, so I'd always cooked for him myself.

Good.

Now I'd have all the time I needed to finish my plan.

With that thought, I stopped caring about coddling his feelings. I turned and shut the door behind me.

I went back to the hospital for another prenatal checkup.

The baby was healthy.

After that, I applied for my visa.

Walking out of the embassy, I saw the courtyard full of wisteria in full bloom.

I closed my eyes and let out a quiet breath.

Three days. Then I'd be gone from Dante's life.