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I Left with Nothing but Myself Novel Cover

I Left with Nothing but Myself

On their ninth anniversary, mafia boss Damian Grant shatters his marriage by introducing his pregnant assistant, Serena, into their home. He demands his wife serve as Serena's personal cook and move into the guest quarters. While guests bet on her crawling back within days, she chooses a different path. Armed with a secret family heirloom from her biological father, she abandons her life of humiliation. Leaving the mocking laughter behind, she boards a flight to a distant future, finally free.
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Chapter 1

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband—Damian Grant, the man who ruled the mafia by day and once ruled my heart by night—did not bring me roses.

He gave the bouquet that should have been mine to Serena Lane, his personal assistant.

Beneath the chandelier where we once danced on our wedding night, he turned to me with that same cold charm he once used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear.

“She's pregnant.” Finally, everything fell into place. “She's a picky eater. From today onward, you’ll cook three meals a day for her. And no repeats!

“She’s sensitive and hates sleeping alone, so you’ll need to move your things into the guest room.”

The room fell silent.

I did not raise my voice, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply picked up my packed suitcase and walked to the door.

The butler tried to stop me, but Damian did not even blink.

“She’ll come back.” He lazily swirled the wine in his glass. “She’ll come back crying and begging within three days.”

Our guests burst out laughing.

They placed a million-dollar bet right in front of me.

They were betting on whether I would be back before the night was over, begging Damian to let me back in like a pathetic stray dog with my tail between my legs.

However, they did not know I had already received the family heirloom from my real father. I booked my flight to get far, far away from everyone I used to know.

This time, I really left.

Just as I reached the entrance of the villa, I heard Damian Grant’s voice behind me. It was deep and commanding, as always.

“Claire, leave the obsidian necklace behind.”

I froze.

That necklace was a keepsake from my grandmother.

It was a raw piece of volcanic stone, forged from fire, and had been brought all the way here from Arendale.

I had never taken it off before, not even on the day we got married, or on the night Damian held me tightly and whispered that he loved me for the first time.

He stepped closer. His tone was disturbingly casual.

“Serena’s pregnancy has been rough. Maybe the necklace will help lift her mood.”

For a moment, I thought he was joking.

However, the seriousness in his eyes told me he was not.

I clenched the obsidian in my fist. Its jagged edges dug into my palm, but the pain could not compare to what I felt inside.

When he saw the redness in my eyes, he looked away and let out a sigh.

“All right, Claire. Name your price. I’ll compensate you however I can.”

How much was a nine-year marriage full of humiliating and degradation worth?

I did not bother to do the math.

I remembered what happened the last time I refused to give my knee pads to Serena Lane at the ski resort.

Damian’s men had stripped off my coat and left me outside in subzero temperatures while Serena sipped hot cocoa by the fire.

In front of everyone in the room, I walked over to Serena and fastened the necklace around her delicate neck.

I said in a low voice, “I wish you and your baby the best.”

Damian finally gave me a faint smile when he heard my blessing. It was as though I had finally done something right.

“Claire, as long as you behave, my child will be your child. No one will ever threaten your position.”

The moment he spoke, the necklace around Serena’s neck snapped. It was as though fate itself was listening.

The obsidian hit the floor and shattered into jagged fragments.

A sharp piece slashed her ankle.

She screamed.

Damian lunged forward and scooped her up like she was made of glass.

“Call the doctor!” he barked at the butler.

He glanced at me accusingly.

This man, who had once stayed up three nights in a row just to hold my hand and hum lullabies when I had a cold, was now looking at me like I was a criminal.

The others?

Those wealthy snobs in designer clothes—the people I used to think were my friends—stared at me with smug, mocking eyes.

They saw what I had become. A woman who was once the Don's most precious treasure was now reduced to the dust beneath his feet.

At that moment, I did not need their mockery. Even I found it absurd.

I gripped the handle of my suitcase and turned to leave.

Damian grabbed my wrist, squeezing so hard that it felt like my bones might snap.

“Apologize for what you did.”

Ignoring my protests and struggles, he flung me down in front of the now-seated Serena.

My knee landed on a shard of obsidian. Blood bloomed across the marble floor.

Seeing the blood and the pain in my eyes, Damian finally let go of me.

“You broke the necklace and hurt Serena. Shouldn’t you apologize?”

I had apologized more in the past year than I had before in my entire life.

“I’m sorry the food was not to your liking.

“I’m sorry I texted you when you were drunk. I didn’t mean to bother you.

“I’m sorry I saw Serena’s message inviting you to a hotel. I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy…”

I straightened my back and bit my lip so hard that it bled just to stop myself from crying.

Then, I bowed to Serena.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

I gave Damian an indifferent look and asked in a soft voice, “Is that enough?”

His chest visibly heaved as he stared at the blood on my lips.

He reached out and roughly wiped it away, gripping my chin.

“Claire, your backing isn’t here now. Who are you trying to fool with that pitiful act?!”

Before I could answer, the family doctor arrived with a full emergency kit.

Damian did not look at me again.

He led the doctor over to Serena, stepping right over the trail of my blood like it meant nothing.

Serena was the only thing Damian could see. I slowly stood up and wiped the blood from my legs with a handkerchief.

As I walked out the front door, I tossed the bloodied handkerchief into the trash. It felt as though I was discarding something else along with it.

Yes, Damian. Whatever place you once held in my heart was gone now.

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