Divorcing the Don, Ruining His Empire

"Mrs. Bellandi, the baby is developing well. Are you sure you don't want to discuss this with the father?" she asked gently.

At that moment, my phone lit up with a notification.

It was a trending video from the previous night's charity gala at the Bellandi casino.

On the screen, Dante and Serafina sat side by side. They exchanged shy glances, their lips curving into soft smiles.

Then, under the flashing cameras, Serafina gathered her courage and leaned in to kiss him.

Dante didn't push her away. Instead, he placed a hand behind her neck and pulled her closer, pressing her toward him.

The crowd erupted into deafening screams.

I closed the video.

But I accidentally tapped on a high-definition photo.

In that image, on Dante's Adam's apple, I saw a pair of small bite marks.

That detail pulled me back to our wedding night.

Back then, Dante was still just a soldier running small jobs for his father's crew. He had pinned me down on the bed, teasing me with a low, husky voice.

He held my head gently but firmly, urging me, "Bianca, bite me."

When my teeth sank into his skin, he finally pulled me into his arms.

He kissed the top of my head again and again, his voice trembling slightly.

"It really hurts. It's not a dream. Bianca, I really married you."

Back then, he had looked at me like I was something unreachable. Like I was everything to him.

I locked my phone and set it aside. Then I closed my eyes.

"Go ahead, doctor," I said quietly.

The procedure wasn't as painful as I had imagined.

If anything, when it was over, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Like something heavy had finally been lifted from my chest.

My thumb found the inside edge of my wedding band and stayed there a long time before I let go.

The next morning, after being discharged from the private clinic, I met with my new replacement at a café two neighborhoods away from Bellandi territory.

To make sure whoever took over wouldn't be easily pushed around, I had specifically chosen a male candidate.

After discussing everything in detail, I began signing the contract with Nico Ferraro.

"Bianca, why are you stepping out? Dante is such a good boss. Do you know how many people would fight for a chance to work that close to him?" he asked.

I smiled faintly.

"I'm getting old. This kind of work is better suited for someone younger, someone with more energy," I replied lightly.

Nico looked at me, his expression complicated. There was confusion, but also admiration.

"I don't think you're old at all," he said sincerely. "You've been with Dante through everything, from when he was nobody to where he is now. You've worked so hard. You're an amazing fixer."

I only gave him a faint smile and put the signed contract into my bag.

"Maybe," I said softly. "Nico, I wish you a bright future."

After handling everything, I drove back to the estate.

But to my surprise, Dante, who should have been at a sit-down in another city, was already sitting on the sofa. The room was dim. No guards in sight. An untouched glass of whiskey sat on the side table, the ice long melted.

He looked at me. His eyes were bloodshot.

"Bianca, where were you last night?" he asked coldly.

"What does it matter to you?" I replied.

I changed my shoes and walked straight toward the bedroom without stopping.

In the past, when he stayed out all night, I would ask him the same question. I would even call his associates one by one, trying to find him.

Sometimes they would cover for him. Sometimes Dante would grab the phone himself and snap at me.

"Bianca, where I go has nothing to do with you! I'm an adult. I have my own privacy. Stop interfering!"

Even while being scolded like that, I would still worry about him. I would think about how to apologize, how to persuade him to drink less.

But on the other end of the phone, what I often heard was Serafina's soft voice.

"Dante, come dance with me..."

Before I could say anything else, he would hang up.

Now, hearing me give him the same answer, Dante stiffened.

He followed me into the bedroom.

Then he threw two photos straight at my face. His eyes were red with fury.

"Bianca, what's your relationship with him?" he demanded.