All Chapters of My Mafia Husband Tried To Cure Me With My Friend, Now He Regrets Everything: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

9 Chapters

Chapter 1

I was drenched in cold sweat, looking utterly miserable, as if I had just been pulled out of a pool of water.Alice doubled over laughing.“Oh my God, Monica, you’re way too easily scared.”Andre held up his phone, and on the screen, my brother Joey wore a cold, stern expression.“Look at yourself. You’re thirty years old, yet you still can’t face the trauma from your childhood.”“You should be grateful Andre doesn’t mind putting up with you.”Andre quickly spoke to him through the screen.“Don’t say that. Monica just needs more time.”“Time? It’s been five years. If you keep indulging her, she’ll never get better.”Joey let out a cold snort.I knelt on the floor, blood trickling down from my forehead as dizziness washed over me.Andre crouched down and reached out to help me.I pushed his hand away.My palms were stained bright red with blood, and there was blood and torn flesh beneath my fingernails from where I had clawed at my own arm during the panic attack.“Next time, we’ll make

Chapter 2

That night, Andre fell asleep beside me.I remembered our wedding day.The hall was packed with guests, and Andre stood on the stage, making his vows before the priest.“I swear to you, from this day forward, there will never be a sound in Sicily that can disturb you again.”When he finished saying those words, my brother Joey smiled—a rare sight.He patted Andre on the shoulder twice, hard.“I trust you with Monica.”Now, I lay in the pitch-black bedroom.The sound of this man’s breathing was only inches away.I felt as though I had been locked inside a room filled with noise, my head pounding unbearably.On Monday morning, I made an appointment with the best psychologist in Sicily.When the hospital appointment details popped up on my phone, I was sitting at the dining table eating breakfast.Andre came out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee, his eyes briefly flicking toward my phone.“You’re going to see a doctor?”“I won’t be able to go with you today. There’s something going on w

Chapter 3

Two weeks later, when I stepped out of the bedroom, I found that the estate had been completely rearranged.Speakers were everywhere, playing music that made me deeply uncomfortable.My heart suddenly began racing, and my hands clenched involuntarily.Andre poked his head out of the study.“Alice said your treatment should start with prolonged exposure to low-volume sound so you can gradually adjust.”I rushed over, and just as my fingers touched one of the speakers, Andre grabbed me from behind.“Alice said this is a necessary part of the process. If we turn it off now, everything we’ve done will be for nothing.”“Every time you panic, you run away. How are you ever going to get better like this?”His grip was so strong that he had me completely pinned in his arms.“I don’t need to adjust!”I broke free of him, my voice trembling violently.“Turn off the music.”“Monica, calm down.”His tone was still gentle, but there was impatience underneath it.I wrenched myself away from him and

Chapter 4

Over the weekend, Alice posted an invitation to a party in the group chat.The venue was a newly opened bar.She specifically @ me and typed out a long message:“Don’t worry! I’ve already spoken to them. They won’t play any music. We’re just getting together with some friends!”Andre replied in the group chat on my behalf: “She’ll come.”Joey immediately sent a voice message.“Monica, Consider it a chance to get out and clear your head. Stop sitting at home all day, overthinking everything. Andre will go with you.”And it seemed I had no choice at all.When we arrived, it really was quiet.Besides Alice and me, there were three of her friends there.Andre sat on a sofa in the corner, looking at his phone.We drank and played a few little games. I lost one round and was about to admit defeat and take a drink, but Alice stopped me.“Why don’t you go up on stage, turn on the music, and sing a song?”I looked around the bar.The stage was surrounded by speakers. If the music was turned on,

Chapter 5

Andre didn’t come home until the next day.“Monica, what do you want for breakfast?”No one answered.Andre walked over to the bedroom closet and opened the doors.More than half of it was empty.Everything left behind was the designer couture Andre had bought for me—the dresses I had never worn.The drawing boards and paints were gone from the study, and so was my digital drawing tablet.Andre stood in front of the vanity.My wedding ring lay beside the table lamp, with a business card tucked underneath it.A law firm.Divorce Department.Andre stared at the ring for a moment, then smiled.This trick again.The last time we had argued, I had taken off my ring too, only to put it back on myself the next day.Andre picked up his phone and dialed my number.“The number you have dialed is not in service.”Andre dialed again.Still not in service.Andre scrolled through his contacts and called Joey.“Is Monica with you?”There was silence on the other end for several seconds.“Monica sent

Chapter 6

Meanwhile, I rented a small apartment in New York.It was tiny.I set up my drawing board in the living room, arranged my paints by color, and washed my brushes before leaving them to dry on the windowsill.I sat on the sofa, and there were no speakers hidden somewhere, waiting to suddenly blare sound at me.Silence.Real silence.Curled up on the sofa, I finally let myself cry.The days that followed were simple.During the day, I went to a café on the corner to sketch, and at night, I returned to my apartment to paint in oils.I painted a series based on my memories of Sicily—the olive trees, the waves, the domes of the churches, and the long corridors of the estate.In my third week in New York, Andre appeared outside my apartment.That afternoon, I had just returned from a gallery, carrying a bag of newly purchased paints.As I climbed to the third floor, I saw someone standing outside my door, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his hair meticulously groomed.His back was to me,

Chapter 7

Andre and Alice didn’t give up.Over the next few days, Andre sent me countless messages, his tone growing softer each time—from sincere apologies to quiet pleas. I never replied.Alice messaged me too, sending long paragraphs at a time, going from “I know I was wrong” to “I was only trying to help you” to “You’re being too sensitive.” I blocked her.Then Joey called.“Hello.”“Monica.” His voice came from across the ocean, cold and impatient. “Are you done with this little tantrum yet?”“Andre flew all the way to America to find you, and you wouldn’t even let him through the door? Do you have any idea how many things he had to put aside?”“Alice was crying because of you too. She said you blocked her. Monica, she’s spent so much time helping you with your illness. Fine, you don’t have to be grateful, but what the hell does blocking her accomplish? Do you still think you’re some sixteen-year-old girl? Running away from home, blocking your family and friends—what kind of stunt is that?”

Chapter 8

I opened my computer and accessed the encrypted folder.The complete recording from that day at the bar.It contained Alice’s laughter, the sound of her timer, and Andre’s voice.And other audio recordings from a backup phone.Every time I was exposed to those sounds, I kept a record.I bundled all the evidence together and sent it to my lawyer.At the same time, I had my lawyer send a copy of the evidence to Joey, so he could see it for himself.Three days later, Andre received a letter from my lawyer.It wasn’t divorce papers.It was a pre-litigation notice concerning infringement and compensation for emotional and psychological damages.The attached list of evidence was four pages long.That same day, the psychological counseling center where Alice worked received a formal complaint.The complaint stated: Alice, a trainee counselor without an independent license to practice, had subjected a patient with PTSD to forced exposure therapy without obtaining informed consent, resulting in

Chapter 9

A few days later, I received an email.The sender was Andre.It was a very long letter. I hesitated for a moment before opening it.He wrote about many things.He said he had watched every recording, and for the first time, he had seen my expressions so clearly.He said he had always believed he was helping me, until he stood before the court and listened as the evidence was read out, piece by piece. That was when he finally realized what he had done.He said that when Alice first approached him, he had simply thought it was a good thing that someone could solve my problem.He didn’t want me to remain trapped in PTSD forever.He said he had been too busy, with too many family affairs to deal with, and he thought that leaving everything to a “professional” would be enough.He was wrong.At the end of the letter, he wrote:“Monica, I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness. But I’m asking you to give me one chance. Even if all I can be is an ordinary friend to you, that would be

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