All Chapters of The Don’s Runaway Wife: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

That night, I realized something I had never allowed myself to see before— in Victor’s world, I had never been the most important person.“I don’t feel well… I think someone drugged me.”My fingers tightened around the sleeve of his suit as I spoke, my voice trembling. Heat rushed through my body, my breathing turning shallow and uneven, and the floor beneath me seemed to tilt as I struggled to stay upright.Victor glanced down at me, those deep blue eyes as calm and unreadable as the ocean. For a moment he slipped an arm around my waist, clearly about to escort me out, but his phone rang before we could take a step.He answered, listened for a few seconds, and then slowly let go of me.“Take Donna to the hospital,” he instructed one of his men. Then he looked back at me, his tone as steady as if we were discussing a routine business matter. “Elena, I have something to handle. I’ll check on you later.”I stared at him in disbelief.“Victor, I’m your wife. Someone just drugged me, and y

By the time I returned to the Moretti estate, the sky was already dark.The moment I stepped into the grand hall, Margaret, the housekeeper, hurried over.The moment she saw how pale I looked, concern flashed across her face and she asked carefully, “Madam… are you alright?”“I’m fine, Margaret. I need you to do something for me.”Without waiting for a response, I walked straight into the dressing room and motioned for her to start taking down the dresses and the expensive jewelry from the display cabinets.“Call the auction house. I want all of this sold.”Margaret froze where she stood.“But… these are all gifts from the Don…”“Just do it.”She hesitated for a second, then nodded and stepped out to make the call.By the afternoon the representatives from the auction house had already arrived.They were just about to move the crates out of the estate when the front doors opened.Victor had returned.He filled the doorway the moment he stepped inside, tall and broad-shouldered, his tai

Just then, hurried footsteps and startled cries erupted behind me.My father, my mother, and several members of the Rossi household rushed out of the mansion at once.“Stella!” my mother screamed as she ran forward and dropped to her knees beside her.My father hurried over and crouched down to check her condition.There was a gash on Stella’s forehead, blood running down the side of her face, her skin pale as paper, her whole body trembling as if she might faint at any moment.“Dad… Mom… I’m… I’m fine… please don’t blame Elena…”“You hit Stella?!”“You vicious girl! How could you do something like this? She’s your sister!” My mother’s eyes cut toward me like knives.My father stood up abruptly, and before I could react, a sharp slap crashed across my face.“Smack—!”My head snapped to the side, heat exploding across my cheek while a loud ringing filled my ears.“I didn’t touch her! She ran in front of the car herself!”“You still dare to lie? Stella is bleeding and you’re still trying

When I got back to the house, the silence was suffocating.I pulled open the liquor cabinet with more force than necessary, grabbed an already opened bottle of whiskey, and took a long drink straight from the bottle. The liquid burned all the way down my throat, sharp and punishing, but it did nothing to warm the cold spreading through my chest.At some point the room began to blur.In the haze of alcohol, I thought I saw Elena sitting on the sofa, arms crossed, glaring at me the way she always did when I drank too much.“Victor, seriously? Again? Do you want to destroy your stomach?”I reached out without thinking.My fingers closed around nothing but cold air.“Elena…” I muttered hoarsely.The only answer was the wind rattling softly against the windows.I woke up the next morning still on the couch. My head felt like it had been split open, and the familiar ache in my stomach had already started to spread.Without thinking, I called out, my voice rough.“Elena… the stomach medicine.

When I stepped out of the apartment building that morning, the snow was already falling heavily over the quiet street in Zurich. The cold air bit through the thick wool of my oatmeal-colored cashmere coat, and I wrapped my scarf a little tighter around my neck as I prepared to walk to the small bakery on the corner.Then I saw him.For a moment I thought the figure standing across the street was just another shadow blurred by the snow. But when he shifted slightly under the streetlamp, the light caught his face, and my heart stopped for a second before turning completely cold.Victor.He looked nothing like the man I remembered. The powerful mafia Don who once controlled half the underworld with a single word had been replaced by someone exhausted and worn down by something far heavier than the winter cold. His dark coat was wrinkled and dusted with snow, his beard unshaven, his hair damp from the night. He looked like a man who had been standing there for hours.Maybe all night.When