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The Mafia Don's Regret: Too Late To Love Novel Cover

The Mafia Don's Regret: Too Late To Love

Cedric, a ruthless Don, abandoned me at our wedding and later pushed me toward a kidnapper’s blade to save his childhood sweetheart. I survived the fall, but lost our baby. Instead of remorse, he imprisoned and tortured me, believing her lies. He didn't know she was sterile or that I was dying of heart failure. On my final birthday, he missed our last date. When the Ferris wheel stopped, I was gone, leaving only proof of his tragic mistake.
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Chapter 4

Kacie Oliver POV

"You clumsy, cursed creature!" Carroll shrieked, looming over me. "Look what you've done! You could have scarred her for life!"

My arm was throbbing, the skin turning an angry, blistering crimson. I gritted my teeth, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

"It was an accident," I said.

"You are a liability," Burt muttered, throwing his napkin on the table with a sneer. "Cedric should have married a woman of his own standing, not a charity case."

They left me there, amidst the wreckage of the dinner.

I went to the kitchen alone. I stood at the sink and ran my arm under cold water for twenty minutes, watching the steam rise from my skin.

No one came to check on me. The house was silent, vast, and hollow.

Hours later, the front door opened. I heard Cedric's heavy footsteps, followed by the lighter, uneven tap of Jayden's heels.

They came into the living room. Jayden was wearing Cedric's suit jacket. It swallowed her small frame, drowning her in fabric so she appeared fragile-the perfect image of a victim. Her foot was bandaged.

"How is she?" I asked, staying seated on the sofa. I had wrapped my arm in some spare gauze I found in the pantry.

"Second-degree burn on her toe," Cedric said, his voice clipped. He placed a takeout bag on the table. "I brought food. The soup is ruined."

I looked inside the bag. It was leftover bean soup from the hospital cafeteria.

"I'm allergic to beans," I said quietly, staring at the container. "Anaphylactic."

Cedric paused. He looked at the bag, then at me. A flicker of something-annoyance? Indifference?-crossed his face.

"I forgot," he said. "You're always so difficult with food."

"I'm not being difficult, Cedric. I'm trying not to die."

"Just order something else," he said dismissively, turning his attention back to Jayden. "Jayden needs rest. You'll stay home tomorrow and help her. She can't walk up the stairs."

"No," I said.

The word hung in the air, heavy and absolute.

"Excuse me?" Cedric turned slowly.

"I said no. I am not her nursemaid. And I am not your servant." I stood up, cradling my burnt arm against my chest. "I want a separation, Cedric. We haven't filed the civil papers yet. It's just the church ceremony. We can annul it."

Cedric crossed the room in two long strides. He towered over me, his presence sucking the air out of the room.

"There is no separation in this life, Kacie. You belong to me."

"She told me about the betrothal contract," I said, my voice trembling but loud. "She told me you were supposed to marry her."

Cedric's face hardened into stone. "That is a lie. There was never a contract."

"She whispered it to me right before she dropped the soup! She provoked me!"

"Stop lying!" Jayden cried from the sofa, tears instantly springing to her eyes. "Why do you hate me so much? I just wanted to be friends!"

Cedric looked at her tears, then back at me. His expression shut down completely.

"Jayden doesn't lie," he said coldly. "You are paranoid. And you are cruel."

"I'm cruel?" I laughed, a broken, jagged sound. "Look at my arm, Cedric! Look at the burn!"

He barely glanced at it. "You did that to yourself."

Jayden let out a sob and ran toward the stairs, limping with exaggerated theatricality.

"Jayden, wait!" Cedric called out.

He looked at me one last time. "Fix your attitude. Or I will fix it for you."

He turned and chased after her.

The door to the guest room slammed shut upstairs.

The sound echoed in the empty hallway like a gunshot. It sounded like a gavel coming down. A sentence passed.

I touched the bandage on my arm. The physical pain was dull compared to the gaping hole in my chest.

I was done. I wasn't going to spend my last three years fighting a ghost.

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