My Mafia Husband Regretted After I Faked My Death

As I returned to the manor to pack my luggage, the door to the study was pushed open.

Gina walked in, holding a black ledger bound in lambskin.

That was the core secret of the Corleone family—the "Black Book" recording every money laundering channel and every bribed official.

"Leaving so soon, Elena?"

Gina smiled with a look of pure innocence, yet her hands moved quickly to shove that heavy ledger deep into the luggage I had just packed.

"Consider this a farewell gift from me."

Before I could even react.

Boom—!

A massive explosion erupted in the corner of the study.

The shockwave overturned the bookshelves, and tongues of fire instantly licked across half the room. Gina had planted a micro-bomb beforehand.

"Help! Fire! Help!"

Gina screamed, messily rubbing her hair and collapsing onto the floor.

Seconds later, the heavy mahogany doors of the study were kicked open.

Marco rushed in, holding a wailing, terrified Luca in his arms.

Seeing the scene inside, Marco's pupils constricted instantly.

"Don! Save me! Elena has lost her mind!"

Gina screamed hoarsely, pointing a trembling finger at me while her other hand protectively clutched the open suitcase, exposing the black ledger inside.

"She stole the family's Black Book to sell to the Feds to get revenge on you! When I caught her, she tried to blow us all up to silence me!"

The air in the room solidified instantly.

Marco's gaze fell on the black ledger.

In the Mafia world, Omertà is the absolute iron law. Stealing family secrets is something only a Rat would do.

Marco slowly lifted his head. In those deep eyes, complex emotions I couldn't read were churning—rage, disappointment, and a trace of deep helplessness.

"Elena..."

His voice was low, carrying suppressed fury.

"I tolerated your jealousy. I tolerated your tantrums. But I never thought you would cross the line."

"I didn't! She planted it..."

I tried to defend myself, but Marco cut me off.

"Enough! Even now, you try to drag an innocent person into this? Gina is just a low-level associate. What could she possibly know about these things?"

His accusation was the final nail in my coffin.

The fire began to spread, smoke rolling through the room.

Marco scooped up Gina—who was tightly clutching the "recovered" ledger—in one arm.

With his other hand, he held Luca.

He turned toward the door but stopped just before stepping out.

He looked back at me.

There was no heartless killing intent as I had imagined, but rather a look of arrogant exhaustion, like a parent disappointed in a hopeless child.

"Elena, you test my bottom line again and again. What am I going to do with you?"

He sighed, his eyes so deep they seemed capable of swallowing a person whole.

"By Mafia’s laws, a traitor must be executed immediately—skinned and cemented into a pillar. But in the end, I can't bring myself to do it to you."

He assumed the study's top-tier fire suppression system would activate any second.

"You stay here. Look at this mess. Reflect on where you went wrong."

"When the fire is out, and you've come to your senses, I'll let you out."

Bang!

The heavy blast-proof door was slammed shut.

The lock engaged.

He locked me in.

To make me "reflect," to teach me "submission," he left me in this burning room.

But what he didn't know was that Gina had already sabotaged all the automatic sprinkler systems.

The fire wouldn't be extinguished here. This room would only become an incinerator.

Flames rapidly swallowed the carpet. The heat wave scorched my skin, and the oxygen grew thinner by the second.

"Marco! Open the door! The suppression system is down! I'm going to die!"

I pounded desperately on the door panels, but the heavy soundproof door blocked all sound.

He couldn't hear me.

He was taking his son and Gina far away from here.

Was I going to die here?

No.

I refused to accept this.

I turned to look at the only exit—the massive floor-to-ceiling window.

This was the third floor.

Below the window was hard stone pavement.

Jumping meant severe injury, if not death.

But staying meant turning to ash.

Forcing my body, which hadn't fully recovered, I gritted my teeth, lifted a heavy chair, and used the last of my strength to smash it against the glass.

Crash—!

The moment the glass shattered, the night wind rushed in.

Without a second of hesitation, I closed my eyes and leaped.

In that moment, I felt like a bird with broken wings, finally flying out of this cage named "Love."

Thud!

Agonizing pain instantly swept through my body. The sound of bones snapping was clearly audible.

I lay on the cold stone pavement, my mouth filled with the taste of blood.

But I smiled.

Broken and covered in wounds, dragging a crippled leg, I crawled out of hell.

This time, no one could stop me on my road to a new life.