He Defended My Killer,Not Knowing I Was His Wife

When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer human.

I floated in mid-air, like a ghost abandoned by the world.

The rain was still falling.

The crushed body on the ground was a bloody mess, its abdomen caved in.

That was me.

The young mistress of the Valente family, a tool for the Falcone bloodline's marriage alliance, a woman Dante Valente himself had discarded.

I hadn't even had a chance to look at myself properly.

A cold wind swept by.

The next second, I was swept away.

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing beside Dante.

No, floating beside him.

This was a private hospital controlled by the Morano family.

The corridor was eerily quiet.

The overhead incandescent lights emitted a faint hum, like some kind of dying whisper.

Hidden cameras were installed in the corners.

Two men in black stood at the end of the corridor, their suits open, the butts of guns gleaming at their waists.

This wasn't a hospital.

It was a place the Mafia used for dealing with things that "couldn't be seen in the light of day."

And Dante sat on a bench.

Dante Valente

He remained calm and composed, as if nothing had happened.

Seraphine Morano leaned on his shoulder.

She was pale, her breathing weak, like a wounded animal.

But her hand gripped his clothes tightly.

That dependence stung my eyes.

I died in the rain.

She lay in his arms.

Then, Dante's phone rang.

A name appeared on the screen.

Donna Lucia.

The true head of the Valente family.

The call connected.

"Adriana hasn't returned to the manor?"

Her voice was calm, yet carried a commanding pressure.

Dante frowned, his tone clearly impatient.

"She's throwing a tantrum."

"I'm with Seraphine at the hospital."

"She did it on purpose."

He said this without even a pause.

As if I, from the very beginning, wasn't worth explaining myself to.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

Then the call ended.

Dante's face darkened.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket, his knuckles tightening slightly.

The air was heavy.

Even his subordinates at the end of the corridor didn't dare look at him.

"Adriana thinks too highly of herself."

"Just because she's pregnant, she thinks she can control me."

"This time, I won't go to her."

"Let her learn her lesson."

Every word was like a knife.

Unfortunately, I had no heart left to be stabbed.

Seraphine looked up at him. A flicker of almost undisguised smugness flashed in her eyes.

But she quickly concealed it, adopting a submissive demeanor.

Her fingers gently rested on his shoulder.

Then, they traced his Adam's apple.

Stopped on his arm.

The movement was too practiced.

As if rehearsed countless times.

“Dante… don’t be angry.”

“It’s all my fault.”

“I shouldn’t have let you come with me.”

Her voice was soft, tinged with just the right amount of guilt.

Dante almost instinctively pulled her into his arms.

“It’s not your fault.”

“She doesn’t deserve it.”

Not deserve it.

I looked at him from the air.

Suddenly, I wanted to laugh.

So, in his eyes, my life wasn’t even a “mistake.”

Just “unworthy.”

My memories surged uncontrollably.

I first met him at the Falcone Manor.

Cristiano Falcone, the elder brother, was undergoing succession training.

That was the family's core territory.

Gunfire, rules, loyalty—they were all part of the air.

And he sat in the courtyard.

A black suit, cuffs impeccably tailored.

A thick legal document lay open on his lap.

He was just a trainee consultant then.

Yet he was already involved in arbitration between families.

I saw him in an instant.

From that day on, I chased after him.

By then, Serafina had already been deported.

I heard she was adopted by some overseas mafia boss.

Used her, she secured a way out for the Morano family.

Dante was completely distraught.

Cold, distant, absent-minded.

I thought I could fill that void.

I was wrong.

I was just a substitute.

The kind he hated most.

Then that night.

He summoned me to the family hotel.

The moment the door closed, he pinned me against the wall.

At that moment, I thought he had finally accepted me.

But the next day.

The way he looked at me was like he was witnessing a conspiracy.

"You framed me."

"You wanted to force me into marriage this way."

No matter how I explained, he wouldn't believe me.

Then.

I became pregnant.

Donna Lucia gave the order directly.

The marriage was arranged.

The ceremony was small.

There were no blessings, only witnesses.

The ring was engraved with the double coat of arms of Valente and Falcone.

I wore it every day.

Like wearing shackles.

He never even glanced at it.

I kept waiting.

Waiting for him to believe me one day.

Waiting for him to turn back.

But now—

I died at the border.

Dying on the road he himself abandoned.

I could wait no longer. The scene shifts.

Dante has already taken Serafina back to the Morano manor.

The night is pitch black.

His armored limousine drives into the Valente-controlled area.

The men on both sides of the street bow in greeting.

This is his territory.

His kingdom.

And I, not even my body is here.

The car stops.

He returns to what we call "home."

The house is pitch black.

He frowns.

"Quite the temper."

"He doesn't even come home."

He doesn't know.

I'll never come back.

He loosens his tie, looking somewhat agitated.

No messages on his phone.

He finally starts to lose patience.

Just then—

The phone rings.

Piercing the silence.

He picks up the phone almost instantly.

A flicker of expectation, which he himself doesn't even notice, flashes in his eyes.

But when he saw the caller ID,

that emotion vanished instantly.

“Seraphina.”

He answered.

His voice softened.

On the other end of the line, her voice was choked with sobs.

“Dante, about my brother…”

“I’ve already made him turn himself in to the committee.”

“Can you help me?”

Dante closed his eyes briefly and rubbed his temples.

As if handling a mundane family matter.

“Don’t worry.”

“Your brother is my brother.”

“I’ll handle things with the committee.”

“It’ll be fine.”

His tone was calm.

But it was tantamount to a verdict.