FAZER LOGINI've been married to Salvatore Falcone for seven years. He's a mafia Don who drills raw terror into everyone's minds. While I'm the Donna whom he has announced to the world, in truth, I'm just a mistress who serves as his human shield that can warm his bed on the side. Salvatore has betrayed me countless times over the past seven years. The first betrayal occurred when he took my ring off on our first wedding anniversary and gave it to one of the escorts in the clubhouse on a whim. The second betrayal occurred when I collapsed in the kitchen out of exhaustion. Instead of saving me, Salvatore blamed me for not preparing the hangover tonic for him in time, so he had someone dump iced water onto me to wake me up. The third betrayal occurred when I suffered from massive bleeding when I was five months pregnant. When I begged Salvatore to go to the hospital with me, he told me that he was keeping Valentina Caruso, his childhood sweetheart, company while her cat was getting fixed. For 2500 days, I swallowed all of my grievances, agony, and tears. Last night, at the banquet of our seventh wedding anniversary, Salvatore had taken Valentina's hand and sat her down on the Donna's throne that was meant to be mine. At that moment, everyone looked forward to seeing me humiliate myself. This was the 101st time he betrayed me. After the banquet was over, Salvatore didn't even bother looking me in the eye. He just said icily, "Don't forget that you're only a mistress to me despite our marriage." At the crack of dawn, Salvatore wakes up with a hangover. He tosses his soiled shirt at me out of habit. "Wash this shirt immediately. I'm going to wear it tonight." As I gaze at him, I caress my belly, which is slightly swollen. "Sorry, Mr. Falcone. This is no longer my duty." Salvatore most likely has forgotten that we've signed a contract when we first got married. The clause states that we will get divorced seven years later. Today is the third day before our contract comes to an end. I toss the marriage certificate and the pregnancy report into the shredder on the spot. In three days, my unborn baby and I will disappear from Salvatore's world permanently. This time, I will never look back.
Ver maisFive years after my death, I drifted through the air, watching as the former mafia Don approached my grave with a bouquet of jasmine in his hands.Only five years had passed, yet he looked more than a decade older.His hair had turned gray, and his back carried a deep weariness. It was as though a single gust of wind could knock him over.He slowly crouched down.Those hands that once held a gun were now trembling as they brushed the dust off the photo on the headstone."Alessia. I'm here to see you."He set the bouquet down and gently traced the photo engraved on the stone with his fingers. I was smiling faintly in the photo, yet he couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face."Brando started kindergarten today," Salvatore said, his voice catching.His fingers started to tremble even more than before. "But when he came home, his eyes were red. A bunch of kids surrounded him and laughed at him. They called him a motherless child. A bastard."But he didn't cry. He clen
Salvatore didn't leave Meropolis. Instead, he bought a villa across the sanatorium and spent his days watching me with a pair of binoculars.Sometimes he would watch me strolling in the garden. Other times, he would see me basking in the sun on the balcony.Just seeing me from a distance was enough for him. Even if that was all he could do.A month later, news came from back home. Valentina had gone mad in the basement. She screamed Salvatore's name daily and clawed at her face until it was raw. On one rainy night, she swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills.When Salvatore heard the news, he was carving a wooden horse for his unborn child.His hand paused. A splinter sliced his finger."Cremate her," he muttered. "Don't let her soil the Falcone family's land."He felt nothing for Valentine anymore. If it hadn't been for her, things between us would never have ended this way. Still, he knew the true culprit was himself.During that entire month, I never once left the san
When Salvatore arrived in Meropolis, it was pouring.Dozens of black cars surrounded the sanatorium.Soaked to the bone, Salvatore ignored his bodyguards' attempts to stop him and stormed straight into the lobby. "Alessia! Show yourself!"His voice carried the edge of someone on the verge of breaking.People in the lobby screamed and scattered in panic."Mr. Falcone, this is a sanatorium," Luca said. "Please keep your voice down."He stood at the staircase with several security guards blocking the way."Luca." Salvatore fixed his gaze on the man who had once been his high school classmate. "Hand her over.""She doesn't want to see you," Luca replied, not moving an inch. "Let her go. Haven't you tormented her enough these past seven years?""That's between husband and wife," Salvatore snapped. "It's none of your business."He suddenly pulled a gun from his waist and pointed it directly at Luca's forehead. "Move, or I'll kill you."Luca's expression didn't change. Instead, h
Salvatore ignored Valentina's screaming.He rushed upstairs and shoved open my room's door. The room still carried the faint scent of jasmine perfume I always wore.Like a madman, he began searching every corner of the room in hopes of finding some trace I had left behind. Even a single note would do.But aside from the signed divorce agreement, there was nothing.Then, his eyes landed on my desk. A small notebook lay there.Salvatore picked it up with trembling hands and opened the first page."First year of marriage. I didn't expect Salvatore to remember my birthday. He gave me a necklace. His secretary probably picked it out, but I was still happy," the first entry wrote.He flipped through the pages. "Third year of marriage. He brought a strange woman home. That same day, he locked me in the basement for three days. My heart hurts so much."Fifth year of marriage. The baby was gone. He never came to the hospital. I listened to the rain outside the window. It felt like somet






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