A Deadly Divorce
This was the sixth time Dante Falcone had slammed that damned divorce agreement down in front of me, forcing me to sign.
This time, I did not resist.
He set down the pen. In that instant, a suffocating silence filled the room. His deep brown eyes locked onto me, sharp and probing, as if he were trying to see straight through my soul.
"Why so obedient this time, Sofia? Or are you planning another trick? Don't forget who you are. Mrs. Falcone."
I removed the ruby ring that symbolized the mistress of the family, the one he had placed on my finger when he proposed to me in Sicily. I set it gently on the desk, a surface stained with both blood and money. My voice was calm, lifeless.
"No, Dante. I'm just... tired. Your world is too loud."