Your Life Comes Before Mine

On the opulent cruise ship, gold decorations glittered and lights blazed.

After returning from freshening my makeup, I overheard Carlo Altieri—Don of the Altieri famiglia and the man I was soon to marry—speaking with other members of the mafia.

"Don Altieri, you're sure to win the wager with Don Fabio."

"Yeah. You personally trained Ms. Santoro—she wouldn't dare go against you. Even if you were to flirt with a dancer in front of her, she'd act like she didn't see a thing."

"I remember that rainy day when Don Altieri wanted to fool around with a dancer in the car. Ms. Santoro drove the car for him and stood outside in the rain, waiting for him to finish before heading home."

"It's truly enviable, Don Altieri. You must teach us. Where can one find a well-behaved girlfriend like Ms. Santoro?"

Through the door, I heard Carlo chuckle softly before saying, "She loves me. Naturally, she sees me as her master. No matter what I do, she'll never leave."

"Speaking of which, Ms. Santoro has been with you for three years now…"

I stiffened up when I heard this.

It had already been three years—I had actually been with Carlo for three years.

The corners of my mouth involuntarily twitched as I felt a pang of bitterness for a moment.

I was the one who had actively sought and begged for this relationship with Carlo. Before we started our relationship, I had told him, "No matter who you choose to fool around with in the future, I'll turn a blind eye to it—as long as I can stay with you."

Carlo had raised an eyebrow when he heard that. He probably hadn't seen such a foolish woman before, which was why he agreed.

Over these three years, I had to admit that he treated me exceptionally well.

I also kept my promise, allowing the companions around Carlo to come and go. Even when he took women for romps in the car, I would quietly drive the vehicle and wait for him to finish.

I took a deep breath and lowered my gaze as I walked into the private room.

Just as I neared Carlo, someone suddenly pulled me into their arms. Before I could see who it was, the overwhelming smell of alcohol made me nauseous.

"I say, Don Altieri, since you don't care for Ms. Santoro, why not give her to me? I promise I'll treat her well. Whatever you can give her, I'll give her more."

The moment these words were spoken, the air in the entire room seemed to freeze.

Everyone looked at Carlo, then cast sympathetic glances at the drunk Don of an up-and-coming famiglia.

Carlo suddenly laughed. He whistled from his seat, and I immediately broke free from the man's grasp and slunk over to him like a dog.

Carlo reached out and patted my head. The next second, he suddenly pulled a gun from his pocket and aimed it at the drunken Don.

A loud bang sounded, and blood splattered everywhere.

The man's Soldati instinctively closed in, but Carlo's men subdued them immediately.

Carlo walked over and looked down coldly at the man. "Who gave you the courage to try and take what's mine? I hate it most when others touch my things."

As soon as he spoke, a few of his men promptly dragged away the person, whose bloodstains remained on the floor.

Carlo took out a handkerchief and blindfolded me gently, whispering in my ear, "Wen, I'll never give you to anyone else. You can only be mine."

I nodded obediently. "Alright."

I found it somewhat amusing to see Carlo look so serious. It was no wonder there were rumors that he didn't care about anyone else but me.

…

Back at Altieri Manor, I handed Carlo a glass of water to help him sober up. After drinking it, he went to his room to sleep.

I walked to the balcony to enjoy the night breeze.

Suddenly, someone hissed in my ear, "Nancy Greco, your bravado depends on the person, huh?"

Then, he huffed and said sulkily, "Whatever. It's not for me to decide who you're with or how you should live.

"After all, my words have never truly reached you."

I stared at the stars in the distance and clenched my jaw tightly, forcing myself to hold back from explaining.

Just then, fireworks lit up the night sky outside. It was Halloween that day.

I gazed at the stars and sighed softly. Before I knew it, I had already held on for three years.

Three years ago, my ex-husband, Lucaro Ricci, died in an assassination attempt. After his death, he remained by my side as a spirit.

I sought out a priest about this issue. He told me it was because Lucaro loved me too much, and that his love had become an obsession, preventing him from ascending to heaven.

The priest said there was only one solution—make Lucaro let go of his obsession with me and make him believe that I had fallen in love with someone else.

As such, I had deliberately approached Carlo, Lucaro's rival, and had gotten very intimate with him to convince him that I loved him.

Finally, a few days ago, the priest told me Lucaro's obsession with me was slowly fading. He also said that, in 15 days, it would be a good day that could help make Lucaro's departure easier.

Thinking of this, I smiled faintly. Once Lucaro successfully ascended, I wouldn't have to pretend to be devoted to Carlo anymore.

Perhaps this could even be liberation for all three of us.