The Don’s Pregnant Wife Wasn’t the One He Chose

As I walked away, Dante's face darkened. For a brief moment, panic flashed through his eyes. He started to take a step toward me, but then Nicoletta clutched her stomach and groaned.

"Dante, it hurts," she gasped, then forced out a teary plea. "But Seraphina's more important. Go after her."

Dante hesitated only a second before shaking his head. "No. Don't worry about her. Right now, your condition is what matters most."

He glanced down the corridor where I'd disappeared, and I heard him mutter, "Seraphina's just throwing a tantrum. She's eight months pregnant. She'll be terrified if I dissolve the alliance. I'll talk to her later."

Then he scooped Nicoletta up and carried her into the hospital room.

When I got back to the compound, I stood outside for a long moment, staring at the house that was supposed to be ours. The iron gates were lit by low amber lamps. Two of Dante's soldiers stood at the perimeter, their eyes tracking me with the careful blankness of men who'd been told not to ask questions. Since Nicoletta returned from overseas, Dante had barely been home. I could no longer feel the warmth this house once held.

I walked to the wall, took down our wedding photo and tossed it straight into the trash.

I didn't want to leave a single trace of myself here. Not one reminder of what used to be.

I packed up all our couple items and stuffed them into a trash bag. I was heading down the stairs with it when the front door suddenly swung open. Dante walked in, carrying Nicoletta in his arms.

When he saw me standing silently by the door, a flicker of guilt flashed across his face.

"She's not feeling well after what you did," he said, like that explained everything.

"Not feeling well, huh?" I scoffed. "Then why isn't she in a clinic? Why the hell would you bring her here? Do you think this house is some kind of recovery center for your comare?"

"Watch your words, Seraphina," he snapped. "I'm trying to fix things here. Whether you like it or not, Nicoletta is staying in this house."

Nicoletta chimed in, her hand moving to gently rub her belly. "It's true, Seraphina. There's nothing going on between Dante and me. I'm only staying for the baby."

She said it just to provoke me. Her fingers drifted to the hollow of her throat, touching it lightly, and her voice came out soft as silk. Calibrated.

I could feel the anger rising in my chest, bubbling and hot. I looked at Dante and said, firm and loud, "This is our house, Dante. I don't want her living here."

Dante paused. His face twisted like he was conflicted. But then Nicoletta grabbed his hand and placed it on her belly.

Dante's heart melted instantly. When he turned back to me, his voice was full of irritation. "That's enough! You're pregnant too. How can you have zero empathy?"

"You pushed Nicoletta. I'm just trying to take care of her. If you don't want her here, then maybe you should leave."

His words hit like a slap. The room went very still. Even the soldier stationed near the hallway entrance seemed to stop breathing.

I stared at him, the blood draining from my face. My whole body trembled.

And then I said, as clearly as I could, "As you wish."

Tonight would be my last night in this house. After this, I'd be gone, and Dante Morano would be a closed chapter in my life. A Don who couldn't tell loyalty from a lie. A husband who chose the performance of a stranger's grief over the silence of his own wife's breaking.

With my decision made, I grabbed the trash bag in my hand and marched out the door. My fingers brushed the inside of my left wrist without thinking, pressing against the ridged skin there. The night air hit my face like a verdict.

Nicoletta's voice followed behind me, laced with mock pity.

"Don't fight because of me, Dante. Look, she's so angry she even took down your wedding photo."

Dante's voice rumbled low with frustration. "She's just being dramatic. Once she realizes I'm not playing her game, she'll come crawling back."

A tear slid down my cheek. I walked into the cold night and threw the trash away along with the very last shred of love I had left for him.