Denied Divorce? The Donna Widows Herself

I used the family's hidden connections to uncover Irina's true background.

How could a young woman from the slums end up in the Don's bed in just three months? Even an assassin had to receive training before becoming one.

Yet, the reports came back empty. All intelligence on Irina had been wiped clean.

No one but Luigi could have done that.

I slammed the tablet onto the coffee table.

Without warning, Luigi emerged from the shadows. Clearly, he had been watching my every move.

"Don't go overboard, Isabella," he warned, pouring himself a glass of wine. "I'm doing this to protect you. I don't want you to be dragged deeper into the mafia wars."

Protect me?

The man who once carved his way through half of Sandalay for me was now spinning lies instead.

…

The study was thick with smoke.

I watched as Luigi picked up the new divorce agreement and burned holes in it with his cigar.

"I said, I won't agree to a divorce." He stared at the flames with a manic intensity. "Since you're upset, let's torture each other. Even after you die, you'll still be part of the Conti family."

I snatched the expensive whiskey off the table and smashed it. Glass shards exploded in every direction.

I gripped the neck of the bottle, pressing its sharp edge straight against Luigi's main artery.

"Let me go, or you die." I stared at his eyes, putting more pressure on my grip. "Make your choice."

Luigi didn't flinch. Instead, he lifted his hand and drove the glass straight into his shoulder.

The sound of the shard cutting into flesh was unmistakable. Blood gushed out, spraying across my face.

In a daze, I felt myself transported back to that stormy night seven years ago. The underground auction was filled with smoke and horrendous wails.

The 18-year-old Luigi was drunk on bloodlust. However, just before the explosion, he lunged forward without hesitation, using his back to shield me from the collapsing beam.

I remembered how he bled as he held my trembling body in his arms.

"Don't be scared, Isabella," he whispered. "Close your eyes. I'll bring you home."

Back then, he was my salvation. But now, all that remained was a madman.

I released my grip on the glass as though jolted by an electric shock. As I watched Luigi grinning at me despite bleeding profusely, all I felt was sheer absurdity and disgust.

"You're nuts."

I took two steps back and turned to flee the room.

…

The following morning, the sunlight shone warmly as I sat in the manor garden, stirring my tea idly.

Right then, Irina showed up and sauntered around in front of me deliberately, like a victor savoring her triumph.

"Luigi spent the whole night with me," she said with a bright laugh. Her fingers trailed across her collarbone, where a love bite was visible. "He said he wanted to make it up to me because he felt guilty."

Irina placed her hand gently on her flat tummy, then gave me a provocative look. "Donna Conti, perhaps the true heir awaited by the Conti family is already on his way."

Without wasting time, I picked up the silver fork from the table and acted swiftly.

A piercing scream shattered the calm of the manor.

The fork pierced the back of Irina's hand with deadly precision. Blood spilled across the tablecloth.

Upon hearing the commotion, the bodyguards rushed over and dragged away the sobbing Irina.

Towering above her, I wiped my fingers with a handkerchief. "Bleeding is normal in this family. If you're scared, crawl back to the slums where you belong."