Forgotten by the Mafia Lord

I pulled my phone away from my ear, staring blankly at the screen as the call ended.

"Tell your mother to stop asking me for money. Wasn't the money your family received during our marriage enough?"

Samuel's voice echoed in my head, sharp and detached, cutting through whatever lingering emotions I had left.

I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It should have been relieving to hear him say it—to confirm what I already knew. That I didn’t owe them anything anymore. That I was free.

And yet, the weight in my chest remained.

The fresh provincial air filled my lungs as I trudged along the dirt path leading home. It smelled of damp earth and blooming flowers, the same scents that once comforted me. But instead of peace, unease settled in my stomach.

Would my mother finally let me be? Or would she lash out at me for cutting off the last thing she cared about—Samuel’s money?

I already knew the answer.

"Well, well, well. Look who's back."

The voice was sickeningly familiar, and my shoulders stiffened instantly.

I turned and came face to face with Bianca. She stood with her arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips as she eyed me like a wounded animal.

"Back so soon?" she sneered, stepping closer. "You left all high and mighty, thinking you were better than everyone. But look at you now." Her gaze swept over my worn-out clothes and tired face. "I doubt you're here for a vacation. Don't tell me—" her voice dripped with mock pity, "your husband finally got tired of you and threw you away?"

My fingers twitched at my sides.

"Well," Bianca continued, her smirk widening. "It’s understandable. You’re nothing special, after all. I bet he doesn’t even—"

I didn’t let her finish.

The sharp slap that met her cheek echoed through the street. Bianca stumbled back, eyes wide in shock before they burned with fury.

A voice cut in before she could retaliate.

"What’s going on here?"

Three girls hurried over, drawn by the commotion. Among them, my younger sister, Mia. Her gaze flickered between Bianca and me, then narrowed.

"She hit me!" Bianca wailed dramatically, clutching her cheek. "I was just talking, and she attacked me!"

Mia’s lips pressed into a thin line. "What did you do?" she asked me, suspicion lacing her voice.

"I only slapped her," I muttered. "She—"

"I only told the truth!" Bianca cut in, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I just said she might not be here for a vacation, that maybe her husband left her, and then she snapped!"

The murmurs started immediately.

"So it’s true."

"She was always so arrogant."

"And now she’s back, just like that?"

Mia suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me away. "Let’s go."

I stumbled after her. "Mia, I need to—"

"I don’t care if you killed her," Mia snapped, barely looking at Bianca. "What I care about is—" she stopped walking and turned to me, her sharp gaze pinning me in place. "Tell me the truth. Are you really here because he abandoned you?"

My breath hitched.

I bit my lip, but the tears spilled before I could stop them. I nodded.

Mia scoffed. "Hah. And what about my allowance, then?"

Shock washed over me. "Mia… Are you serious?"

"Of course, I am!" she snapped. "What do you expect me to do now? You should’ve just held on a little longer instead of ruining everything!"

Her words hit harder than Bianca’s insults ever could.

"You…" My voice trembled, but I wiped my tears away. "You’re unbelievable."

Mia rolled her eyes. "Whatever. You're so useless." She turned and stormed off, leaving me standing in the middle of the road, drenched in whispers and judgmental stares.

The sky darkened. A drizzle turned into a downpour.

Even the sky was crying for me.

By the time I reached home, exhaustion clung to my bones. But as I neared the house, dread coiled in my stomach.

My things were outside.

My suitcase. My clothes. My belongings—all thrown out like garbage.

My heart pounded as I ran to the door, banging on it desperately.

"Mom! Open the door! What is this?!"

The door creaked open. My mother stood there, arms crossed, her expression cold and unyielding.

"Don’t come back here until you fix things with your husband."

The door slammed shut in my face.

The rain poured harder, soaking me to the bone. My hands trembled as I wrapped my arms around myself, staring at the closed door.

I had nowhere to go.

No one to turn to.

Lightning flashed in the distance, followed by a low rumble of thunder. I swallowed back the lump in my throat, my mind racing. I could beg my mother to let me in. I could plead. But deep down, I knew it wouldn’t change anything.

She had already made her choice.

I took a shaky breath, stepping back from the door. My feet moved on their own, carrying me away from the only home I had ever known. Away from the warmth, away from the past.

But as I walked, one thought echoed in my mind, louder than the rain, louder than the storm raging around me.

What now?

And worse—

Where do I go from here?