Chapter 4

The doctor said the bleeding was caused by the shock and wouldn't affect the baby, but next time might be different.

Back home, I packed my suitcase. Five years of marriage, and my belongings couldn't even fill one bag.

Before leaving, I slid the divorce papers into his desk drawer.

As I was about to go, Dante walked in from outside.

He saw me and paused. "Daniel said you went to the hospital."

I nodded.

"Anything wrong?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Just some routine stuff."

"Routine stuff still needs attention." He took off his jacket. "I'll have the family doctor come check on you tomorrow."

I shook my head. "No need."

"You're my Donna. Your health always comes first in this family."

He turned and wrapped his arms around me. I caught the scent of sandalwood on him.

He kissed my cheek. "Oh, and since you never picked a place, I went ahead and chose."

I blinked. "What?"

Dante stroked my hair. "The South of France. I picked one of my grandmother's estates. Top-tier lavender and oysters, remember? The Côte d'Azur. Where we first met."

His fingers were warm against my cheek.

"You swam like a little mermaid."

I closed my eyes, fighting not to cry.

I pushed him away gently. "The South of France. Sounds great."

"I knew you'd like it."

I didn't respond.

Dante seemed especially pleased with my obedience. He rewarded me with a kiss on my forehead.

"Good girl."

"That sulky attitude from earlier today? I don't like it. Don't let it happen again, got it?"

Then he walked into the bathroom without waiting for an answer.

I grabbed a disinfectant wipe and scrubbed my forehead until it was red.

Nine o'clock came. Dante left as usual.

He didn't seem to notice the empty vanity or the bare bathroom shelves.

He didn't see the suitcase by my nightstand either.

Right. Aside from Alexa, he was indifferent to everyone.

But in the middle of the night, I was jolted awake by the sound of Dante coming back.

He was on the phone. Alexa's voice came through the speaker.

"Alexa? What's wrong?"

In the silent night, I could hear her sobbing on the other end.

The next second, the man grabbed his gun and walked out without a backward glance.

There was no way I'd follow him. But I couldn't sleep either.

I scrolled through my phone out of boredom.

And saw a video Dante's men had uploaded to their chatroom.

"Rival gang ambushed the estate! Alexa got hurt!"

"This is what gang members signed up for. I'm embarrassed for you!"

They were going at it.

"The Don's here!"

I was about to lock my screen and sleep, but my thumb stopped.

"He looks terrifying. Like a wild beast. He's beating that bastard senseless!"

"That's our Don!"

More videos loaded.

I tapped one. Just as they said, in the video, Dante was like a man possessed, his fists pounding into a masked man's face again and again.

Until the man stopped moving.

Only then did he stop.

Then he turned and pulled Alexa into his arms, pressing her head against his chest so she wouldn't see the blood.

"Don't be scared. I'm here."

In the chatroom, the comments were on fire.

"They should be the ones together."

No idea who said it, but the message was deleted instantly.

The chat went quiet.

I stared at the "message recalled" notification for a long time.

Then I calmly closed the app.

Dante didn't come home that night. I wasn't surprised at all.

I slept dreamlessly until six.

I grabbed my packed suitcase, gathered my documents, and left the keys on the entryway table.

I walked out without looking back.

At the airport, I blocked Dante on every platform. Then I boarded the plane.

As the plane lifted off, I knew: Dante and I would never cross paths again.