The Mafia King's Unwanted Wife Shines

Elena POV

For four hours, I remained anchored to the unforgiving plastic chair in the surgical waiting room.

I wasn’t sitting there waiting for news of his survival.

I already knew he would survive.

Men like Dante Vitiello didn’t meet their end in cheap barroom brawls. They died in wars.

No, I was waiting for Luca.

The lawyer arrived at 3:00 AM, looking as though he hadn’t slept in days. He looked disheveled, his tie askew as he clutched a leather briefcase to his chest.

"Elena," he whispered, sinking into the seat next to me. "I heard. Is he..."

"He's in recovery," I said, my voice steady. "The knife missed the major arteries. He'll have a scar, but he'll live."

Luca let out a shaky breath. "Thank God."

"Did you bring them?" I asked.

Luca hesitated. He looked at the closed doors of the recovery ward, conflict darkening his eyes.

"Elena, this is not the time. Your husband just got stabbed."

"My husband died a long time ago, Luca," I said, staring straight ahead. "The man in that room is Sofia's savior. Not mine."

I held out my hand.

Luca sighed, a sound of defeat. He opened his briefcase and pulled out a thick envelope.

"I pulled every string I had to fast-track it," he said softly. "The annulment papers are based on coercion and the lack of consummation over the last year. And the divorce decree is included as a backup. It just needs his signature, or... proof of abandonment."

"I signed my part," I said.

I took the envelope, feeling its weight.

I reached into my purse and pulled out a small velvet box.

Inside was my wedding ring.

The five-carat diamond felt heavier than a tombstone.

And beside it lay the simple gold band I had given him on our wedding day—the one he had taken off and left on the nightstand three months ago because it "irritated his skin."

I snapped the box shut with both rings inside.

"You're really going," Luca said. It was a statement, not a question.

"My flight leaves in two hours," I said.

"Where?"

"Don't ask," I said. "If you know, he'll beat it out of you."

Luca nodded grimly. "You're right. Go. Be safe, Elena."

I stood up.

My legs felt surprisingly steady.

I walked to the nurse's station.

"I need to leave this for Mr. Vitiello," I told the nurse. "When he wakes up."

She looked from the velvet box to the envelope, confusion knitting her brow.

"Are you his wife?" she asked.

"No," I said. "I'm nobody."

I placed the items on the counter.

I walked down the sterile white hallway.

The smell of antiseptic usually made me nauseous. Today, it smelled like clarity.

I walked out the automatic doors into the bleak pre-dawn gray.

New York was waking up.

The city that never sleeps was just beginning to stretch its aching limbs.

I got into the waiting taxi.

"JFK," I said. "International Terminal."

As the car pulled away, I didn't look back at the hospital.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

I opened the contacts.

Dante.

Delete.

Father.

Delete.

Enzo.

Delete.

I scrolled through the list of everyone who had ever made me feel small.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

I popped the SIM card out and rolled down the window.

With a flick of my wrist, I tossed the tiny chip onto the highway.

It bounced once before vanishing under the crushing wheels of a truck.

I leaned back against the seat.

For the first time in my life, I didn't know what was going to happen tomorrow.

I didn't have a plan.

I didn't have a protector.

I didn't have a family.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

It was the sweetest breath I had ever taken.