Denied Divorce? The Donna Widows Herself

Before I could react, Irina suddenly moved. She shoved Luigi aside and picked up the bloodied knife on the ground, then lunged at me by the door.

"Die!"

Years of survival instincts honed within the family made my body react faster than my mind.

I sidestepped the blade, yanked her hair, and slammed my knee into her lower back with all my strength. I forced her down, pinning her to her knees with her face smashed against the cold tile.

The next second, a wave of pain hit me.

Luigi had reacted with startling speed, smashing the butt of his gun against my wrist with force. There was a sickening crack as bones shifted.

I cried out in pain and was forced to release my grip on Irina.

Holding my wrist, I stared at Luigi in disbelief.

Did he just attack me for Irina's sake?

I was already in a foul mood to begin with, and this merely served to stoke my anger.

Biting back the pain, I spun around and slapped Irina hard just as she struggled back to her feet. I put everything I had into that slap.

Irina reeled, the corner of her mouth splitting open.

"Isabella!" Luigi roared, trying to separate us.

I saw red and gave Irina's stomach a forceful kick. Since she claimed to be pregnant, she'd better not blame me for being rough.

Irina curled into a ball, grimacing in agony. Blood quickly spread beneath her.

Without hesitation, Luigi slapped me across the face.

My head snapped sideways, and I tasted blood.

Seeing how savage his expression was, I finally understood that the young man who vowed to protect me was gone for good.

He scooped up the frail Irina in a panic, murmuring endearments that had once been meant for me alone. His eyes were filled with tenderness and panic that I had never seen before.

Luigi finally relented. He turned and gritted his teeth, roaring at me, "Fine! I'll sign the divorce papers. Pack your stuff and get out this instant!"

As I watched him rush away with his new lover—shielding her with such care—the last flicker of love in my heart died, swallowed by the sharp, throbbing pain in my head.

Back home, the family's attorney handed me the signed divorce agreements with trembling hands.

Luigi's signature was messy but forceful.

I accepted the agreement. As everyone watched, I pulled out a lighter.

The flames leaped up. I set fire to the freedom I had once longed for.

I watched as the paper was burned to ashes, floating to the floor.

Facing the stunned attorney and the guards, I made my announcement in an icy voice. "I'm not getting a divorce. Since he chose to break the vows, I'll make widowhood my ending. Prepare for the funeral."

Right then, a confidential file was delivered to me. The sender was none other than Irina.

The message read, "Do you think he's your salvation? Take a look at the truth, you pitiful woman."

I pulled out the old document from the file. The yellowed paper showed a transaction record from the underground auction seven years ago.