The Mafia Heir Called Me a Gold Digger, Then He Lost Everything

I buried my mother and came home in a daze.

The moment I opened the door I saw that the living room had been done over. There were white tulips everywhere, and two bottles of red wine on the table.

Victor was setting out the plates. He looked up at me and his face darkened at once.

"So you finally decided to come home? You didn't say a word to anyone, and you've been gone for days. Elena, do you have any idea how worried I was?"

He said he was worried, but there wasn't one call or one message on my phone.

I didn't want to fight with him.

I went into my room without a word and started packing.

Victor's eyes went wide. He seemed unable to believe I was genuinely angry over the money he had taken from my mother's surgery fund.

"Elena, are you done with this tantrum? You're really walking out over that hundred and fifty thousand? You should be in the kitchen making dinner. Maybe after we eat I'll forgive you."

Coming from the Sicilian Don's heir apparent, a man who placed himself above everyone else, that counted as backing down.

But the man I had loved was Victor, the penniless boyfriend I thought I knew.

"I'm not walking out, Victor. I'm breaking up with you!" I threw my clothes into the suitcase, met his gaze, and enunciated every word.

For a second Victor looked rattled, then he pulled himself back together.

He frowned at me.

"This is a bluff, isn't it? You threaten to break up so I'll beg you to stay, and then you squeeze more money out of me. Elena, you're doing exactly what Camilla predicted. She was right about you. You're a gold digger!"

Even though I already knew what he had always thought of me, hearing him say it out loud still made my heart lurch.

He hadn't been like this five years ago, when we first got together.

Back then Victor told me his family was poor and that he might never be able to give me a comfortable life.

I didn't care at all.

He was gentle and thoughtful, careful and polite in everything he did, and he took extraordinary care of my mother and me.

Once she got sick out of nowhere while I was away on a business trip.

Victor found her in time and got her to the hospital. He spent every cent of his savings on her bills and sat by her bed for two full days and nights.

He didn't call me until she was out of danger, because he didn't want it to affect my work.

I decided then that this was the man for me.

Rich or poor, I was willing to face all of it with him.

What I didn't know was that Victor was really the Sicilian Don's heir apparent.

He had played poor on purpose, afraid that I was after his position and his money.

His act wasn't even that good.

The arrogance in him kept slipping out.

He looked down on my taste and complained that I had no manners.

He kept bringing home expensive bespoke suits, watches, and jewelry, claiming he had found them at thrift stores.

He assumed someone who had grown up poor, like me, wouldn't recognize luxury goods.

He was right.

I was blind with love, and I never once doubted him.

Thinking about five whole years of suspicion and lies, I finally started to cry.

The moment the tears fell, Victor panicked.

He reached up and wiped them away.

Then he pulled a delicate bracelet from his pocket and slipped it onto my wrist.

"It's only a hundred and fifty thousand. Why are you crying? Come on, you've been saying for years how much you love this bracelet. I bought it just for you. Happy now?"

I looked down at the bracelet on my wrist.

It cost three thousand dollars, and I had wanted it for five whole years.

Every time I passed the display window I would stop and look at it for a while.

And every time, Victor would look guilty.

"Elena, wait a little longer. When I have money, I'll buy it for you!"

Now the wait was over, and I didn't want it.

He could buy me fifty of those bracelets, but that still wouldn't bring my mother back.

I was about to take it off when the door swung open.

Camilla walked in.

The antique jeweled necklace at her throat threw off light and made her look even more beautiful.

That beauty had been paid for with my mother's life.

"Elena, what are you doing here?"

I looked at her coldly.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

Camilla's face shifted into a wounded look and she edged behind Victor.

"Why are you being so aggressive? I assumed you'd have the sense to leave. What Victor and I need to discuss is strictly confidential. No outsider can hear any of it."

Sure enough, Victor stepped forward and shielded her behind him, his voice turning sharp. "Elena, don't take it out on Camilla. I invited her. Her housekeeper is on leave, so I told her to come eat here and we could go over Family business while we were at it."

The excuse was so flimsy I couldn't help scoffing.

A wealthy heiress without her housekeeper and a rich heir planning dinner together. It was obvious who they expected to cook.

Camilla picked her moment. "Victor, I can't believe you've been living somewhere this small and filthy for a woman like her!"

Victor went still for a second.

Camilla kept going. "And after everything you sacrificed for her, she isn't the least bit grateful. She should pay you for all the emotional distress she's put you through."

Victor's gaze slowly turned cold.

She had clearly convinced him.

"She's right, Elena. For five years I gave up a comfortable life for you. I put up with all this mess and filth, and I had none of the Family's men protecting me. I was exposed the whole time. You owe me compensation for that."

He looked around, found a pen and paper on the coffee table, and held them out to me.

"I know you don't have money. I won't make it hard on you. Just write me an IOU. Thirty thousand for the emotional distress will do."