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The Don's Unfit Collateral Novel Cover

The Don's Unfit Collateral

To settle a life debt, she bound herself to Cillian Rafferty, the cold heir of Chicago's criminal underworld. For seven years, their contract marriage was nothing but a nightmare. While she remained barren, Cillian fathered eighteen pregnancies with other women, leaving the abortion records on her doorstep. Broken, humiliated, and stripped of her pride, she finally demands a divorce. Cillian suspects a hidden agenda, but she has nothing left to give. She is done begging a man who views her as worthless collateral.
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Chapter 2

Not long after I sent the message, Declan replied.

It was a simple sentence: "Are you certain?"

My fingertips hovered over the screen for a moment, but I still typed back three words: "I am certain."

A moment later, Declan replied again: "Since you have decided, I respect your choice."

As I put my phone away, I met Cillian's questioning gaze. He frowned. "Who are you texting?"

I just shook my head, not bothering to explain. After all these years, he never listened to a word I said anyway.

Seeing that I wouldn't answer, he didn't press, just adding flatly, "My father's 60th birthday is in two days. Be there."

I didn't reply, but my mind was made up.

Declan had always treated me with kindness. Even if I was leaving, I should attend his birthday party. It would be a final gesture of respect.

That afternoon, I went out to choose a gift for him.

I remembered that Declan loved collecting antique watches. The rare pieces displayed in his study were all treasures he had gone to great lengths to acquire.

With this in mind, I drove to a private auction house on the city's west side.

After explaining what I was looking for, the auctioneer enthusiastically presented a limited-edition Patek Philippe. Its craftsmanship was exquisite and its design classic—perfectly suited to Declan's taste.

I examined it for a moment and was just about to raise my paddle when the doors to the auction hall were pushed open.

Two familiar figures strode in. It was Cillian and Ava.

Among Cillian's many mistresses, Ava wasn't the most stunning, but she was the most tenacious. She was the only one who had terminated three pregnancies for him and still remained by his side.

Right now, she was nestled against Cillian, her belly slightly rounded. She was clearly pregnant again.

Cillian's gaze fell on the bidding paddle in my hand. Just as the auctioneer was about to resume, he spoke, his tone commanding.

"We'll take this watch."

As he spoke, he produced his card and handed it to the auctioneer, then turned to me. "Seraphina, just pick another one."

My expression hardened, and I remained silent.

Just then, Ava spoke in a cloying voice, "Seraphina, please, just let me have it. Think of it as the first gift from the baby in my belly to its grandfather."

The auctioneer had already swiped the card, and Ava stepped forward to take the paddle from my hand.

I tightened my grip, about to retort, when she lowered her voice to a whisper meant only for me:

"Seraphina, aren't you curious why you could never get pregnant after seven years with Cillian?"

My heart seized. A cold dread snaked through my gut.

Seeing the color drain from my face, her smile turned smug. "It's because Cillian slipped long-acting contraceptives into your milk after every time we were together."

"For seven years. He never missed a single dose."

Her words hit me like a physical blow. The blood froze in my veins.

"He said only I am worthy of carrying his heir. That Callahan blood is unfit to taint the Rafferty line."

The words "unfit to taint" were a poisoned dart, striking deep into my heart.

Seven years of pent-up grief and rage erupted in that instant.

I couldn't stop myself. My hand flew up to slap her.

But before my palm made contact, a large hand clamped down on my wrist.

Cillian stepped in front of Ava, his brow furrowed.

My eyes traveled up his arm to the faint, puckered scar on his neck from a gunshot. I froze.

Years ago, I was robbed after a dinner party. Cillian had appeared from nowhere and, without hesitation, taken a bullet for me. That was the scar it left.

An agonizing ache squeezed my chest, tight and suffocating. How could the man who once took a bullet for me become this... this monster?

He not only destroyed my chance to be a mother but used it to humiliate me, forcing me to waste seven years of my youth and become a city-wide joke.

Looking at the scene before me, a wave of futility washed over me.

What was the point of fighting over this watch? It would only lead to more humiliation.

I slowly relaxed my hand and said calmly, "Forget it. If you want the watch, take it."

Without another glance at them, I turned and walked away.

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