Five Years Gone, Now Watch Me Destroy You

Five years. Forty-five hypocritical family dinners.

I was the "peace hostage" in my marriage to Don Colin Morton, a union meant to solidify the fragile alliance between our families.

I once believed the Morton family insignia he gave me, the one I never took off, was a testament to his love.

Until the day he annihilated my family and handed me an annulment. "This marriage is a stain on my new empire," he said. "Alessia, we have to cut ties with the past."

So I faked my death and vanished with my son.

Five years later, I returned as one of Europe's top art auctioneers, intent on dismantling his criminal empire piece by piece.

But there he was, kneeling before me in the pouring rain, clutching the hem of my dress. His eyes were bloodshot as he begged, "Alessia, my empire, my life—it's all yours. I only ask one thing. Please... don't let our son call another man Papa."

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1

It was my one-thousand-eight-hundred-and-twenty-fifth day as Colin Morton's wife. Five years to the day.

For five years, he had made me his Donna, treating me with a tenderness so convincing I mistook the possessive fire in his eyes for love.

In public, he would drape his expensive cashmere coat over my shoulders, pulling me into his arms with a powerful, indisputable claim. His scent would envelop me, a silent declaration to the world that I was his.

On cold, rainy nights, he would cancel a clandestine, high-stakes meeting and drive clear across Manhattan to our penthouse, just to pull me close after a nightmare and murmur reassurances in my ear.

On our first wedding anniversary, he fastened a platinum griffin insignia—the symbol of the Morton Donna, the highest honor—to my dress.

"Alessia," he'd said, "this is my leash on you. For the rest of your life, don't even think about escaping."

And I, a fool, was thrilled by his words. I tilted my head to kiss his cold lips and told him I would never leave.

I had fallen hopelessly in love with Colin.

And so, I willingly played the part of his perfect wife. At one family dinner after another, I did everything to placate my own family, to make them believe this fragile alliance was unbreakable.

I played the elegant Donna, navigating the delicate politics between our families for him, paving the way for his ambitions with my smiles and submission.

I thought the family insignia I never took off was his unique promise to me.

I thought his possessiveness and protection were born of love.

Until today, the day he finally seized complete control of New York's underworld.

Colin was ecstatic. He hosted a grand banquet at the family estate to celebrate.

He raised a glass brimming with whiskey, his eyes filled with an undisguised hunger for power. "To Alessia. You were my greatest asset."

Seeing the smile on his handsome face, I was genuinely happy for him.

And I had momentous news of my own.

I was pregnant.

An hour ago, I had received the pregnancy report from my private doctor. It showed I was six weeks along. Colin and I were finally going to have a child, a true heir to our bloodline.

I hid the small slip of paper in my clutch, my palms slick with nervous sweat. I couldn't wait to give him the greatest surprise of his life.

But after a few rounds of drinks, he pulled a document from the inner pocket of his bespoke suit.

"Alessia, sign this."

I saw the cold, printed words clearly: Marriage Annulment Agreement.

The smile froze on my face. My mind went blank, a low buzz filling my ears.

"Colin... what is this?" I managed, my voice trembling. "This isn't funny. What kind of sick joke is this?"

Colin lifted his glass, swirling the amber liquid. His gaze was colder and more distant than I'd ever seen, as if he were looking at an object that had outlived its usefulness.

"I'm marrying Blair."