Mafia Heiress: Outliving the Man Who Tried to Destroy Me

From the moment Delaney took up residence inside the Shaw estate, Don Beckett became her shadow. Wherever she went, he followed. Whatever she needed, he provided.

As for me?

The second the truth became undeniable, I stopped waiting for anything from him.

Late one night, I went downstairs for a glass of water. As I passed the guest wing, Delaney’s voice floated through a door left slightly ajar.

“Beckett,” she murmured sweetly, “I heard the Saint Christopher medal your family protects works wonders. The baby keeps me awake every night… could I wear it for a while?”

That medallion was not ordinary jewelry.

It was a Shaw bloodline relic—proof of legitimacy. A symbol that declared who truly held the title of Mrs. Shaw.

On the night of our wedding, Beckett himself had fastened it around my neck. He told me then that it would belong to me for life. That there would never be another woman who carried that title.

His voice pulled me back to the present.

Through the narrow opening, I watched him lean down and brush his lips against Delaney’s cheek, smiling with indulgent warmth.

“Of course,” he said gently. “I’ll get it from her. You can wear it however long you like—at least until the baby arrives.”

The pain that stabbed through my chest was sharp and immediate.

I couldn’t even remember the exact words he had once sworn to me anymore. But it didn’t matter. Because he clearly didn’t remember them either.

I took a step back—but the floor betrayed me with a soft creak.

The door opened.

Beckett came out and found me standing there. Surprise flickered across his face… followed quickly by guilt. He gently closed the door behind him and guided me farther down the corridor.

“Evelyn…” he said cautiously. “You heard that, didn’t you?”

I remained silent.

After a brief pause, he continued, carefully choosing his words.

“Delaney hasn’t been able to sleep well. Could you let her use the medal for a little while?”

I gave a slow nod—but at that exact moment, a sharp pain twisted through my side. I winced and forced it down.

“I’ll give it to her,” I said quietly. “But only if you agree to one condition.”

His face brightened instantly, as if I had just granted him absolution. He stepped toward me, arms ready to pull me into an embrace—but I stepped back before he could touch me.

Delaney’s fragrance clung to him.

It made my stomach churn.

“I knew you’d understand eventually,” he said with visible relief. “Once Delaney gives birth, I’ll return it to you. Don’t overthink it—your position in the Shaw family is secure.”

So he hadn’t forgotten what the medal symbolized.

“I don’t care whether she gives it back or not,” I replied calmly. “I just need you to sign something first.”

Then I turned and went upstairs.

A moment later, I returned with the divorce papers already opened to the page highlighted for his name.

“There’s no need to upset yourself like this,” he said softly, mistaking everything. “Delaney won’t keep it forever. Like I promised—I’ll hand it back after the baby is born.”

Without reading a single line, he signed.

The instant I held the finalized papers in my hands, the storm inside me faded into silence. I never imagined it would be this simple.

Beckett smiled faintly.

“I know I’ve neglected you these past months. Go buy whatever you want. I’ll cover everything.”

So that was why he signed so easily.

He thought I was just bargaining for money.

Without another word, I unclasped the medal from around my neck and placed it into his palm.

For a moment, he hesitated. Then his fingers slowly closed around it.

“Don’t worry,” he said again, as if needing to reassure himself. “Once the baby’s born, it’ll be yours again.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I replied flatly. “Let her wear it as long as she wants.”

Moved by emotion, he pulled me into a sudden embrace. I pushed him away at once, but he didn’t seem to mind. He turned immediately and headed straight back into Delaney’s room.

A heartbeat later, her delighted laughter rang through the hallway.

I stayed where I was, standing silently by the window.

Tomorrow… I would leave.

And this time—I wouldn’t look back.