All Chapters of I Left, and the Family Collapsed: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

I no longer demanded monogamy— I no longer asked for emotional loyalty. That kind of fantasy had never belonged to this world—certainly not to a mafia family. I personally selected women for Pete: clean backgrounds, obedient temperaments, fertile. I fired the tutors who had been forcing Berg to study, so he could do whatever he wanted. I diligently took care of Tom's mother, reorganized the accounts, and mediated factional disputes. The family stabilized. Everything fell back into place. Except Pete. That day, he finally snapped. In the study, priceless ornaments shattered one after another, fragments scattering across the floor. “I’ve already sent Mia away!” His eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse, like a cornered beast. “What more do you want from me before you’ll stop?” I stood there calmly. “Stop what?” Berg, standing nearby, was on the verge of tears. “Mother, I was wrong,” he said. “I won’t say men should have multiple women anymore. I won’t mention Mia again.”

I survived that ordeal at the cost of my child. The doctor said I could never conceive again. This was the price of survival. I don't know how many days I was unconscious. But when I awoke, my butler told me what happened next. Pete ordered his men to take Mia out of town and place her in a secluded, safe location. He prepared everything for her, arranging for constant protection. Careful and meticulous. Afraid of any harm to her. And the butler told me he had discovered Pete's affair had lasted for at least a decade. All these years, I had never known. Pete had hidden it very well. The first thing I did afterward was bury the already formed child. Pete didn't come, saying the Mafia was in turmoil. But I knew he was with Mia. Later, when Pete came to see me, I filed for divorce. I didn't make any demands. I only wanted to take my son, Berg, with me. But to my disappointment... Just minutes before, the boy was sitting by my bedside, holding my hand, asking if I was in pain

“Isabella—Isabella!”Ignoring the blood seeping from his shoulder, Pete rushed forward and caught her as she collapsed.“Enough!” he roared hoarsely, shaking her. “Stop pretending! If you keep this up, I’ll throw away your daughter’s ashes!”She didn’t respond.A faint smile lingered on her lips, as if mocking his incompetence. Blood gushed from her mouth, staining his hands.The heat of the blood made his fingers tremble uncontrollably.“Isabella…?”He called her name again and again, gripping her hand tightly, his voice hoarse.No response.Finally, he broke down.“Doctor!” he cried, panic completely shattering his composure. “Quick, call a doctor!”The servants rushed to find a doctor; they had never seen Don so angry.Berg rushed over, pale-faced.“Father…what happened to Mother?”Pete didn’t hear him.His fingers trembled as he wiped the blood from Isabella’s lips again and again, as if that could erase everything.“Why is she bleeding?” he murmured. “It shouldn’t be like this. She

Pete wanted a moment of peace.Just a moment.He wanted to sit beside Isabella and talk to her—quietly, undisturbed, without blood, without screams.Like the beginning.Back when everything had been simple.Back when he wasn’t the Don of the family yet—just a university student with nothing but time and foolish sincerity.Isabella had been the cheerleading captain.Radiant. Untouchable. The kind of girl who lit up an entire field just by standing there.He remembered how he had chased her.Every afternoon, without fail, he went to watch her rehearsals.He never missed a single one.And every time it ended, he would be there—a bouquet of roses in his hands,and a small strawberry cake, always the same.Day after day.For a full year.He had never complained.Never grown tired.Until that night.When she finally smiled at him and said yes.That was the night they became they.The memory was warm. Gentle. Almost unbearably soft.The door was flung open.Mia stumbled in, soaking wet, trembling