My Mafia Husband Cheated While I Was Pregnant

He froze. Something flickered across his face… panic? Rage? A glimmer of the man he used to be?

Then the sneer came. "You think you can just leave me?" he spat. "You got no money. No name. No power. This life, my life, you wouldn't last a damn day without it."

I turned away.

But before I could take another step, his hand clamped around my arm. Tight, bruising.

"The Old Don liked you, that's the only reason you became my wife," he hissed, breath hot with fury. "You think you earned this? Without me, you're nothing. You can't even feed yourself. And now you want a divorce?"

I stared at his hand gripping my skin. Then I pulled away. Quiet. Calm. Like tearing off dead weight.

"I'd rather starve," I said. And walked away.

Back into the compound. Back into the silence. And just as I walked upstairs, his voice rang out one last time, desperate.

"Sofia!"

I paused but not for him.

A small pair of feet ran toward the door.

"Daddy!" the little girl cried, Valentina's daughter, his daughter. "Daddy, I won't eat if you don't feed me."

Her voice cracked.

He turned to her. Hesitated.

And I? I kept walking.

Because for once… his hunger was no longer mine to feed.

By morning, the sky was clear.

I woke up smiling for the first time in years.

Because today was the day I left this cursed empire behind.

When I opened the door, Dominic was standing there, holding a single white rose. My favorite.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I know I messed up."

His voice was gentle. His eyes were soft.

Just like the first time he pulled me into his world of blood, betrayal, and power disguised as love.

He held out a box wrapped in gold ribbon. Inside was a flowing yellow dress. Silk. Effortless. Radiant. My favorite color.

"I booked a place for us," he said. "Same spot where we had our first date."

I stared at him, stunned for a moment. And then I smiled.

A small, practiced, polite smile.

"Fine."

He left humming, like he'd won me back.

Inside, I sank onto the bed and checked my phone, confirming my flight one last time.

As I scrolled, memory crept in like a ghost from another lifetime…

Paris. Four years ago.

I was twenty-three, still naïve enough to believe that flowers could mean forever.

He took my hand as we stepped out of the car into a candlelit rooftop garden overlooking the Eiffel Tower. The entire terrace had been emptied just for us. The music was soft. Jazz. Strings.

And then… A sudden gust of wind stirred the air, and I gasped.

Thousands of rose petals fluttered down from above, scattered like crimson snow, spiraling in the Parisian night.

Dominic laughed and pulled me close. "I told you," he whispered, "I'd give you anything."

My eyes filled with tears. "Even the sky?"

He grinned. "Especially the sky."

I remember how his lips tasted like wine when he kissed me under the rain of roses. How I told myself, This must be what love feels like. This. Right here.

Back in the present, I blinked the memory away.

Because now I knew better. That kind of love wasn't real. It was a sedative. A lie with lace gloves.

Today, I'd wear the yellow dress.

I'd let him take me to the place he thought still had power over me.

I'd even smile. But when I left that table… I'd never come back. Not as his wife. Not as his victim. Not as his anything.

A text from Alessio lit up the screen.

"Today's the day, baby. No backing out."

"I'm in," I replied. "Let it burn."

I stacked three gift boxes on the bed. Anniversary gifts for our five-year mark. Of course, Dominic didn't remember. Men like him only remember what benefits them.

Just as I was zipping the dress, the door burst open.

Dominic. Valentina. And that venomous old woman he called "Mama."

Valentina looked like she'd been rehearsing in front of a mirror.

"You set us up?!" Dominic shouted, storming across the room. Before I could even react, his palm cracked across my face.

Then his mother slapped me. Twice. Hard and fast. Knocking me to the floor.

"You knew the Russians were coming! Just to test if Dominic would save you? Are you sick in the head?" Valentina shrieked.

"If you're gonna kill me, fine," she sobbed dramatically, her hand pressed flat against her stomach. "But spare my babies, please!"

"You ungrateful snake," Ginevra snapped, the strand of pearls at her throat shifting as she adjusted them with deliberate fingers. "You think we owe you something after everything he's done for you?"

They all screamed, cursed, kicked at my name like it was filth.

And I said nothing.

Because at that moment… I felt nothing.

"I gotta clean up your mess," Dominic spat. "You're not leaving this compound. Stay here. Think real hard about what you just did. I'll deal with you later."

He slammed the door behind him.

I grabbed my phone.

Dialed.

"Alessio," I whispered.

"Tell me, baby girl."

"I changed my mind," I said calmly. "Release the footage. Send the evidence to every family on the Commission. Start the fire. I want him to watch his kingdom crumble before I board that plane."

Alessio chuckled. "Already done. Your ride's out front."

I stepped out. A small black sedan waiting by the gate. No Castellano plates. No flags. Clean.

The driver opened the door with a small nod. "Welcome, Mistress."

As we pulled away from the estate, I looked back one last time.

And smiled. Let them burn. Every last one of them. Dominic. Valentina. That snake pit he called a family.

They wanted a war? They just made the mistake of forgetting who they married.

At the airport, I walked through security with nothing but a passport, a boarding pass, and the weight of everything they took from me.

The plane doors closed and my phone lit up.

Dominic Castellano – Calling…

Decline.

Again.

Again.

Again.

I let it ring. Let him suffer. Let him feel the silence he sentenced me to but on the fourth call, I answered.

I didn't let him speak. I brought the phone to my lips, stared out the window as the engines began to roar, and said:

"FUCK YOU, DOMINIC."

Then I hung up.

And flew.