Three Years I Slept, the Underboss I Saved Chose Another Woman

The man I had nearly died to save had, in just three years, allowed a showgirl to take my place.

If my sacrifice meant so little, then they had no right to blame me for turning my back on them.

Daniel froze for a second, clearly not expecting me to agree to a divorce so easily.

After all, three years ago, I was the one who had followed him like a shadow.

Even when we argued, I was always the first to back down.

My decisiveness was so out of character that it clearly threw him.

"We were married, after all. For old times' sake, you can still come to me if you run into trouble."

He handed me the keys to a townhouse.

"The settlement papers will be here shortly. This is your compensation. Move in, and stay out of family business for a while."

I said nothing and obediently took the keys.

"And one more thing, Sarah. Be smart about this. Don't cause any trouble for me, especially when it comes to Eva."

Eva. The showgirl I had rescued from a black market human auction.

I gave her a new identity. I gave her a new lease on life.

I pulled her from that life, brought her under the family's protection, gave her a safe haven, and even planned a future for her.

She thanked me a thousand times, vowing to repay me for saving her life.

And this was how she repaid me: by climbing into my husband's bed.

Less than an hour later, the family's consigliere arrived with the asset division agreement.

They couldn't wait to make Eva the official Mrs. Wilson.

Daniel and I were childhood sweethearts, forged in blood and fire.

Though it was an arranged marriage for the sake of our families, our bond had been sealed in the heat of countless shootouts. We were, by all accounts, a loving couple.

I almost bled to death giving birth to Alice.

Daniel, this cold, ruthless Mafia Underboss, had held my blood-soaked hand and wept, his voice cracking.

"Baby, we're not having any more kids. The only thing I'm afraid of is losing you. Nothing else matters…"

The street war three years ago… I was shot and fell into a coma protecting him and our daughter.

I just never imagined that three years could change everything. Now, Eva had completely captured his heart.

And I'd been demoted from his beloved wife to an unwanted relic collecting dust, an object of his disdain, a roadblock on their path to happiness.

I examined the separation agreement carefully. While the assets I was given were a fraction of the Wilson family's wealth, it was still a substantial amount.

I had no objections to that.

I picked up the pen but paused just before the ink hit the paper.

"I want one other thing. I want custody of Alice."

Daniel scoffed.

"Setting aside whether you can even support her, do you really think she'd choose to go with a stranger?"

"Sarah, you've been in a coma for three years, so maybe you don't understand the situation. The Rossi family has lost its footing in the underworld. You're in no position to fight me for her."

He looked at me like I was an ant he could crush without a second thought.

I met his gaze, my own eyes cold and unflinching.

"I gave birth to her. Why wouldn't I be qualified to fight for her? So, I'm not fit to be her mother, but that showgirl is?"

Daniel's eyes turned icy, his voice laced with a threat.

"Are you sure you want to go against me?"

"Sarah, your Rossi family is in bad enough shape after that business deal went south. Don't push your luck and burn the last bridge you have."

"Otherwise, I might still throw you a bone from time to time."

He spoke as if tossing a coin to a beggar. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face.

Daniel was stunned, staring at me in disbelief.

It was the first time I had ever laid a hand on him. He surely never saw it coming.

Yes, before the coma, I had always been the graceful, devoted wife of the Underboss.

I understood the wars he fought on the streets and in business, so I always spoke softly and kept the family affairs in perfect order.

He had only ever seen my gentle elegance. Even when he took his anger over territory disputes out on me, I was always patient.

In his mind, I was a woman without claws.

But that was because I loved him.

Three years in a coma, and he finds a new love.

The first thing he does when I wake up is tell me to get lost.

After such cruelty, why should I still show him any grace?