Heartbreak to Power: The Don's Chosen

We stared at each other—neither of us showing any sign of softening—until my vision blurred with tears.

Finally, Matteo said with a sigh, "After all these years by my side, I thought you'd have learned some empathy. Elena, you've truly disappointed me."

His words struck like a sharp blade, plunging straight into my heart. The pain made my lashes tremble, and tears began to fall instantly.

For Matteo, I had defied my Papa, Giovanni Russo, and the perfect match he had chosen for me. I gave up the chance to become the Don's wife of the Caruso family, the most powerful mafia clan in Solmark.

Though I was born the Principessa of a mafia family, I learned to cook zuppa and run a household for Matteo, all while supporting his climb to the top.

The most determined thing I had ever done in this life was choosing him without hesitation and reshaping my bold and fiery nature into the version that best suited him.

Yet in the end, all I earned was his icy, heart-gutting disappointment.

I refused to allow myself to wallow in sorrow. Wiping away my tears, I walked to the study and retrieved the document from years ago. Then, I placed it before them.

"Then sign the divorce papers," I said calmly.

Matteo's sharp, mocking laugh cut through the room's silence. "Why don't you continue to keep the papers safe? You'll have plenty more chances to use it in the future."

The scorn in his tone was so palpable it felt like the sharpest arrow piercing straight through my heart.

A sudden, ill-timed chuckle rang out.

Sofia seemed to forget the sting of her swollen cheek. His words broke through her defenses in an instant, pulling a laugh so pained it twisted her expression into something raw and distorted.

My hands clenched into fists, and the last flicker of hope within me vanished completely.

Matteo was the one who had drawn up the divorce papers the year we got married. The day he brought up divorce, my world nearly crumbled.

Back then, I spent every day in restless anxiety, questioning how the man I had nurtured and poured all my love into could still slip through my fingers.

I cried until I could barely breathe. Tears streamed down my face as I begged, threatened, and pleaded with him not to leave.

In the end, he relented.

Later, I gave him money, status, the finest resources, and brought him smoothly into my family. Slowly, I learned to rein in my sharp edges and tread carefully until my entire world revolved around him.

In time, the indifference in his gaze softened, warmed even.

But my own sense of security faded faster and faster. Thus, I began using the unused divorce papers as a tool to test Matteo's love for me time and again.

In the beginning, when he still needed me, he would at least try to cajole me. But as he grew stronger, he would only say I was making a scene again whenever he saw the divorce papers.

Even now, he still believed I was merely pulling them out like before to scare him, to test him, and turn it into some petty game for attention.

I looked him calmly in the eyes and said, "There won't be a next time."

At the same time, I removed my wedding ring and tossed it into the trash. "Let's get a divorce."