Seven Years as the Don’s Wife, Only to Be Replaced

I watched his retreating figure quietly and whispered under my breath, "I wouldn't marry a shameless, cheating man either."

After they left, I slowly looked around the room. The bathroom floor was wet, the air still heavy with moisture. In the trash bin, two used condoms lay discarded carelessly.

A wave of nausea rose in my chest, making me feel sick.

So this was what his "overtime" had been all about. Every night, before climbing the stairs back to the main residence, he had been down here with her in this safehouse kept off the Family's books.

I walked into Serafina's bedroom. It was filled with luxury items: designer bags, high-end skincare products neatly arranged on every surface, silk scarves draped over a chair still warm from use. Everything in the room spoke of indulgence and excess. The kind of indulgence only a Don's protected woman could afford.

I suddenly remembered how, just a few days ago, I had asked Dominic for a lipstick as a birthday gift.

He had looked at me with pure disdain and said, "You're already thirty. Why are you still celebrating birthdays? Trying to act young? It's disgusting. Just stay home and do your chores. No amount of expensive makeup will make you twenty again."

He was right about one thing. I would never be twenty again.

But Dominic had never lacked twenty-year-old girls around him. Serafina was just the one he favored the most.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. Then I pulled out my phone and began taking pictures of everything in the room, documenting every detail. The bags with their receipts. The skincare with the price tags still attached. The bedroom that cost more per month than most of the associates earned running his legitimate fronts. Every photograph was leverage, and leverage was the only currency this world respected.

After that, I went back upstairs and started packing my things.

In the seven years we had been together, the things Dominic had given me were pitifully few. A set of French kitchenware, a robot vacuum, and a so-called "master-crafted" knife set. I left them all behind without hesitation.

As I packed, I couldn't help but let out a quiet, bitter laugh. Serafina's belongings downstairs filled an entire room. Yet in this place where I had lived for years, everything I owned could fit into a single suitcase.

When I was done, I picked up my phone and called my best friend, Adriana Ricci, who was overseas running a legitimate front in allied territory. After three missed calls, she finally answered.

I bit my lip, holding back my tears as I spoke. "Adriana… I was wrong. I shouldn't have given up my career and my life for Dominic. I regret everything. I want to come find you."

She called me a fool, her tone harsh and unfiltered, saying I deserved it. Then she hung up.

I sat there in the empty room, a wave of sadness washing over me.

All the moments when she had tried to warn me came rushing back. I remembered the disappointment in her eyes the last time we spoke face to face. She had told me that a woman who gave up her own name for a man's protection ended up with neither.

Just as my tears finally began to fall, my phone lit up again.

Adriana had booked me the earliest available ticket. Three days later, at noon.

The tears I had been holding back for so long finally broke free.

Tears for myself. Tears for the seven years I had wasted.

Dominic didn't come home that night. After I refused to cook for Serafina, he blocked my number without hesitation, as if cutting me off was the most natural thing in the world. A Don's silence was its own kind of punishment, and he wielded it the way other men wielded fists.

I didn't bother trying to reach him again. Instead, I packed lightly and took the trip back to my hometown, planning to collect a few things from my childhood before leaving for good.

I had no idea what Dominic had told my Hale beforehand. The moment I stepped off the bus, I saw Evelina already waiting at the door, craning her neck and looking around anxiously, clearly expecting someone else.

When she realized that Dominic hadn't come with me, the anticipation on her face disappeared instantly. Her expression darkened, her lips pressing into a thin, displeased line. The look of a woman watching her family's last connection to protection and tribute walk away.

What she didn't know was that Dominic would never come here again. From the very beginning, he had looked down on me and the Bellavia name, treating our fading bloodline as something beneath him. We were useful for the alliance. Nothing more.

My Hale walked up to me quickly and asked, "Have you two made up yet?" Her tone carried both urgency and expectation, as if there was only one acceptable answer.

"We're not going to," I replied calmly. But the moment the words left my mouth, her hand came down hard across my face.