The Mafia Boss Won't Divorce Me Mga Nobela at Kwento

Vincenzo had frowned, taking the phone. The screen was open to a CNN breaking news article, the headline blaring in bold black letters: BOSTON MAFIA QUEEN ELENA MORETTI FILES FOR DIVORCE, WALKS OUT OF CITY HALL ALONE. Below the headline was a video, and when he pressed play, he heard my voice saying the words that would break him forever: “I’m getting divorced...I'm going to the hospital for a prenatal checkup.”

I batted my lashes, it wasn't something new. "Your father is a well-known Mafia boss and dating his daughter is quite alarming. As a lawyer, I have to defend what's right." He continued ranting, heading towards no direction and I sighed heavily. "What are you trying to say?" I questioned him, straightforwardly. "I want us to break up, Rachael." He said curtly, having no ounce of consciousness or compassion in him. "What?" My jaw dropped in astonishment, he wouldn't have made such a statement, he can't afford to leave me. Who was pushing him?

“I will not disappoint dad and I will not lie to him, messing with you will discredit my last name, it is a lie that does not work in the Millers' favor. I don't like it, I'm not sure, but you're putting me between a rock and a hard place, it's my life or nothing “ I sigh deeply, in one inhalation I catch the oxygen that rushes to my lungs “. I accept, but I want a divorce and my freedom once that year passes, okay? "It's a deal," he holds out his hand to me, I accept the slight shake. Who knew I would have to accept your conditions? “Does this mean that you are going to forget that revenge against us? it's over? “I am forced to ask. Their grayish greens do not leave my eyes, they penetrate

I say, nodding. He exhales deeply. “Yes, Renée. I would leave Maria in a heartbeat because that’s how much I care about you. If I could, right now, this instant, I would get those divorce papers ready.” My heart jumps. “But those are power lines. Leaving her isn’t just a matter of feelings. It’s politics, alliances, and consequences. When I married her, I married her whole mafia dome. Ending this doesn’t just start and end with her—it’s bigger than that. All I’m asking—begging—you to give me time.”

I stammered the question, afraid of what he would say, because even though I didn't think I was worthy of him, I also didn't want Marco to give up on marrying me—not after I'd fallen in love with him. "Cancel? Have you lost your mind? Your father being alive doesn't change our plan at all; it just affects mafia business. In two days, you'll be Mrs. Falcone, and nothing or no one will change that!" "Are you sure about that? Don't you want more time to analyze if I'm worthy of you? Because we both know how complicated divorces are in the mafia, and..."

“Is there anyone else who would threaten her if she weren't your wife?” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Not that I'm aware of.” “Good,” she muttered, shifting her gaze to the night sky. “Then I want you to promise me one thing…” I inched closer. “Anything.” A faint smile curved her lips as she turned to me. “Once that Grasso is gone and you receive your fortune and title, divorce her. Let her live with no Mafia in her life.” Anger heated my veins. There was a lot I was willing to do for her—for Catherine—but divorcing her made no sense. “Don't ask me to leave her,” I gritted out.

“I should leave before I let myself be utterly taken with him knowing that he can't reciprocate my feelings but my heart doesn't, my emotions get so—” I pause, heeding a knock on the door. “Mrs Valenti, the stylist is here.” “I'm coming, have them set up in the living area,” I shout back, pausing the music. I quickly rise and slip out of my dress and into a fluffy robe I bought from Gia's store. “Sasha, you can't divorce him.” Luna says, “Not right before he gets inaugurated as Capo dei Capi.” “He won't be,” I say, my eyes widening when I catch my confident assumption being voiced out loud. So far, I know Father has two mafia leaders on his side, they're from different clans and organization

“Completely. No trail. No body. No way for anyone to find me. I want the world to believe I’m dead.” I stopped, my hand drifting to my still-flat stomach. “And my baby comes first. Whatever you arrange, my child stays safe.” There was only the briefest pause. “Three million dollars,” she said. “And it can be done.” I didn’t hesitate. A divorce hadn’t been enough to free me from a man like Luca Moretti. So this time, I would use death. And I would not give him another chance to beg, explain, or drag me back into his world.

The kind of sigh you let out when you’re trying not to panic. "Asher," he said, tone low and deliberate. "You’re married to Dinara Volkov. There is no unloving Ariella, I get that. But this… this is different. The Russians won’t take it lightly if you decide to leave their daughter. Right now, it doesn’t work like that. You know it doesn’t.... There are no divorces in the Mafia." His voice was level, like he was explaining this to a child, trying to get through to me without triggering something worse.

His jaw tightened until the muscle ticked. Then came the words I’d been expecting. “I want you to divorce Cassandra,” he snapped. “This charade has gone on long enough. Fulfill the original agreement. Marry my daughter, as it was intended.” He straightened, eyes gleaming with the weight of his position—the second most powerful Don in the mafia circle. But me? I just laughed. The sound was slow—like ice cracking through glass. Eduardo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and when I stopped, the smile on my lips was razor-thin.