He Let His Mistress Run Me Down and Kill Our Baby, So I Never Looked Back

"Grandpa."

I cut Don Aldo off before he could say more.

"It's over now."

He understood what I meant and didn't press further. He just stared at Nico, disappointment hardening every line of his face.

Nico waved a hand like none of it mattered.

"She's awake, so there's nothing left for me to do here. Gianna's waiting for me. I'm heading out."

Aldo swung his cane and cracked it against him. "Animal."

"I don't care where you go tonight, but tomorrow you will bring Sera to the old house—"

He hadn't finished the sentence before Nico's silhouette vanished through the doorway. Two soldiers in the corridor stepped aside without a word. They didn't look at Aldo. No one in the room did.

Aldo let out a long breath, his back curving lower than I'd ever seen it. His ring finger tapped the arm of the hospital chair. Twice. Then nothing.

He held out the signed divorce papers to me.

"Sera, it's my fault. I failed to raise him right."

"But that child was still your own flesh and blood. I'm asking you to see him off one last time."

I looked at this old man whose hair had gone completely white, the Don who had built the Valente empire over fifty years of blood and discipline, and I couldn't bring myself to refuse.

The next morning, I dressed in black and went to the Valente family's old house. The estate chapel stood at the far end of the garden, its stone walls older than the empire itself. Candles had been lit along the aisle. The priest from the parish waited near the altar with his hands folded, saying nothing.

I had nearly died bringing that baby into the world.

And I never even got to hold him before he was gone.

I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes.

Maybe it was better this way. If I'd had something to hold on to, I might never have been able to leave.

I had given everything I had to this marriage. Walking away now, I carried nothing but exhaustion. Not a single regret.

The baby was buried, and Nico never showed.

What I found instead was his face on social media, trending alongside Gianna as they tried on wedding dresses together. She sent me a message, gloating.

"So what if you had his baby? Nico still chose me in the end."

"Oh, and did you think Nico was by your bedside while you were unconscious? He was with me the whole time. In the bed right next to yours, actually. We tried all sorts of new positions."

In the video she'd attached, my face was chalk-white against the hospital pillow. Next to a shot of Gianna, glowing and radiant. The contrast was obscene.

I didn't reply. I forwarded every message and every video to Don Aldo.

Then I slid off my wedding ring. My thumb moved once across the bare skin where it had been, and then was still.

I picked up my grandmother's ashes, held the urn close, and whispered, "Let's go home, Nonna."

...

Night had already fallen by the time Nico stumbled back to the old house, reeking of liquor. The soldiers posted at the gate let him through without greeting him. The lights in the front hall were off.

He pushed open the door and froze. Funeral wreaths, everywhere.

"Who died? Is it Sera's grandmother?"

His face drained of color, eyes darting.

"Why didn't anyone tell me sooner? Where's Sera? She must be devastated. I should go be with her."

Aldo had reached his limit. He grabbed the divorce papers and hurled them straight into Nico's face. The pages scattered across the marble floor of the old house, settling among the wreaths like something already dead.

"Sera is gone. She took her grandmother's ashes and left."

"Today was your son's memorial."