Chapter 2

That night, Donatello and I lay in bed as we always did.

The heavy scent of his cigars and cool mint enveloped me. His rough, calloused hand slid expertly under my silk nightgown, an invasion I couldn’t refuse.

Any other night, I would have met his touch with my own, eager for the intimacy.

But tonight, for the first time, I pushed him away.

Donatello frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Not feeling well. Let’s just sleep.”

He didn’t press it, just grunted in agreement.

I thought that was the end of it, but then he spoke into the darkness. “That authorization you had me sign today. I didn't get a chance to read it. Let me see it.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. I stared at him in the dim light.

“Are you sure you want to see it?”

He didn’t understand my tension. He just frowned slightly and nodded.

After a long silence, I got out of bed and found the document.

Just as I was about to hand it to him, a sharp ring cut through the quiet.

It was Donatello’s private phone.

He glanced at the screen, and his expression hardened. I could faintly hear the panicked voice of one of Angelina’s guards on the other end.

“Boss! Miss Angelina’s ex-husband found her new place. He’s outside, trying to break down the door! She’s terrified…”

Donatello’s face was grim. He was already pulling on his black trench coat.

“I’m on my way.”

He paused at the door, his face a mask. “There’s a situation on the West Side. I have to handle it.”

I knew exactly where he was going, but I didn’t call his bluff.

“Okay. Be safe.”

I sat on the sofa and watched the clock tick. I didn’t sleep all night.

The first ray of morning sun stung my eyes.

I picked up my phone and saw a new post from Angelina on social media.

The photo was of a breathtaking sunrise over a tranquil lake. I recognized it as Donatello’s private lakeside villa outside the city.

In the reflection of the glass door, you could just make out Donatello’s tall, imposing figure. He was holding a cup of coffee, his gaze clearly fixed on the woman taking the picture.

The caption was short. “A new life begins.”

A dull ache started in my chest and slowly spread.

So, Angelina was officially free. Donatello would probably make her the real Don’s wife soon. With all the obstacles gone, what was to stop a Mafia boss from having the woman he loved?

Only me.

It was only a matter of time before he asked me for a divorce.

Looks like leaving on my own terms was the right call.

I put my phone down and started packing.

I left behind all the jewelry and gowns he’d ever bought me. I didn’t want them, and he probably wouldn’t want Angelina wearing my hand-me-downs. I boxed it all up for donation.

Donatello came home while I was still packing.

He frowned at the huge cardboard boxes piled on the floor. “What’s all this?”

“Just some old things,” I explained, my face a perfect mask. “No point in keeping them. Donating them.”

He just nodded, not giving it a second thought, and called a couple of his men to carry the boxes out.

If he’d only opened one, he would have seen that he was throwing away everything I once treasured.

But he didn’t.