How I Ghosted My Mafia Wife

Another picture followed immediately.

It was a shot of Ryan's bare chest, a freshly inked—and still bleeding—Windemere family crest tattooed over his heart. Next to it, in fresh ink, was Madeline's name.

[Surprised? You know, when I told Madeline I'd give her anything, even my own flesh and blood, she was so moved she jumped on me right there. What a passionate little demon.]

[Oh, and she's a total demon with me. What about you? Is she reserved in bed? Hahaha, that's because you can't satisfy her!]

I leaned against the window, the world spinning around me. I thought giving up my life as a mercenary would buy me peace. What a fucking joke.

Maybe I should congratulate them.

Another message arrived.

[By the way, she's taking me to Vegas tomorrow. We're going to have a romantic little getaway.]

I turned off my phone. "Doctor," I said to Dr. Ricci, "I think I need to leave now."

"But your wife—"

"I'll tell her myself."

I went straight to my lawyer's office. I needed a divorce agreement.

"Regarding the division of assets, what are your terms?" Blackstone asked.

I knew the full extent of the Windemere family's power. I didn't want a fight over money. "I'll take the legally mandated 50% of our shared marital assets. Once I have the money, I want you to donate all of it."

Everything else, including the mansion I'd bought, I didn't want. All I wanted was my freedom.

Blackstone's face showed a flicker of surprise, but he simply nodded.

Two hours later, I walked out of his office holding the divorce papers. The Chicago sky was overcast, promising a storm.

My phone rang. It was Madeline.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. That business took longer than I expected. Where are you now?"

"Home," I lied.

"Okay, I'm on my way back. But…" Her voice became hesitant. "I might have to go to Vegas tomorrow for some urgent family business. It's… complicated. I might not be back until next week."

Her romantic getaway with Ryan.

"Okay," I replied, my voice so calm it surprised even me.

"You're not mad?" Madeline sounded surprised. "I know the timing is terrible, but it's family business. You understand."

"I understand."

"William," her voice suddenly softened. "I love you. You know that, right?"

I looked down at the divorce papers in my hand and asked the question one last time.

"Madeline," I said softly, "could you ever love someone else?"

"What?" She laughed. "Baby, what are you worried about? How could I ever love anyone else?"

"But if… just hypothetically, if something went wrong between us—"

"That's impossible," she cut me off, her tone shifting to a disturbing possessiveness. "William, listen to me. As long as you are my William, you can never leave me. You're my husband. My man. In this city, no one would dare touch you, and there’s nowhere you could run that I wouldn't find you."

A quiet voice in my head answered: Soon, my name won't be William. It'll be Noah.

"And what if I wanted to leave?"

She laughed softly. "Then I'd give you a three-day head start. And then I'd come find you. I told you, no matter where you run, I will always find you. You can never get away from me."

I hung up the phone and stood on the Chicago street, looking at the distant skyscrapers.

I didn't know if she could find me in three days.

I only knew that in three days, I would be free.