Don't Cry Now, My Heartless Ex-Husband

Alexia POV

I woke up to the rhythmic, incessant sound of beeping.

It wasn't a bomb. It was the steady cadence of a heart monitor.

I was in a bed. Stiff, sterile sheets. The acrid bite of antiseptic in the air.

I was alive.

I tried to sit up, but a searing, white-hot pain sliced through my side. I gasped, the air catching in my throat.

The door opened. It wasn't a nurse.

It was Jacob.

He looked wrecked. His shirt was rumpled, the top button undone, his jaw shadowed with stubble. He walked over to the bed and sat down, his movements heavy.

He took my hand—my good hand.

"You're awake," he said, his voice rough.

"The bomb," I croaked, my throat feeling like it was filled with glass.

"You got out," he said. "Just in time. The blast... it threw you clear."

He paused. He looked down at our joined hands, his thumb brushing my knuckles.

"Your kidney was ruptured, Alexia. It was bad. You were bleeding out."

I waited, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"I gave you mine," he said.

The room tilted on its axis. Jacob gave me a kidney?

The man who left me in a burning car? The man who sprinted away to save his mistress while I was trapped?

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you are my wife," he said, his eyes locking onto mine. "Because we are family."

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a document.

"The doctors say you will recover," he said. "But we need to secure the future. The explosion... it drew attention. The Commission is asking questions. They think I can't control my house."

He laid the paper on the bed between us.

"Sign this," he said. "It's a statement. It says you were targeted because of my enemies. It reaffirms your loyalty to the Cummings Syndicate. It grants me power of attorney over your Bell family inheritance. To 'safeguard' it, of course."

I looked at him. Really looked at him.

He didn't give me a kidney to save me. He gave me a kidney to own me.

He put a piece of himself inside me so I could never be free of him. It was the ultimate brand. A biological leash.

"And Cassandra?" I asked. "Was she kidnapped?"

Jacob looked away, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "It was a misunderstanding. She is safe. She is... resting. The poor girl was very traumatized by the thought of you being hurt."

Liar.

I saw the news on the TV mounted on the wall. It was muted, but the headline was screaming in bold font: *Mafia Don's Mistress unharmed in daring rescue attempt.*

There were photos of them hugging.

He saved her "ghost." He let me blow up.

"If I sign," I said, keeping my voice flat, "I want to go to Vienna."

"Of course," he said quickly. "Once you are healed."

I took the pen. My left hand was shaking.

"Do you love her?" I asked.

"Alexia, don't start," he warned, his tone dipping into frustration.

"Do you?"

"She needs me," he said. "You... you are strong. You have always been strong."

Strong.

That was the word men used when they wanted to excuse their neglect. A compliment wrapped around a betrayal.

I signed the paper.

I signed my name.

But I had already made a decision.

While I was recovering, drifting in and out of consciousness before the surgery, I had access to the hospital Wi-Fi. I had sent an email.

It contained the ledger scans I had made months ago. The ones showing Cassandra skimming money from the drug shipments. The ones showing Jacob recording the private meetings of the other Dons.

It violated Omertà. The code of silence. The penalty was death.

I handed the paper back to him.

"Thank you for the kidney, Jacob," I said. "I will take good care of it."

He smiled. He thought he had won.

"Rest now," he said, standing up and buttoning his jacket. "I have to go check on Cassandra. She's having a panic attack."

He left.

I lay back against the pillows. I felt the fresh, tender scar on my side.

*Tick tock, Jacob.*

The email was scheduled to send to the Commission and the press in exactly one hour.

You wanted a loyalty test?

Here is my answer.