The Ninety-Ninth Time He Broke My Heart

A few pieces of clothing, a couple of pairs of shoes, and some daily necessities. They sat in the suitcase, pitifully sparse.

It struck me then that it hadn't always been this way.

Back in the old days, before the famiglia swallowed my life whole, I was the one who cared most about looking good. I had so many clothes my rooms couldn't hold them all.

When I moved into Lorenzo's estate after we came together, I had so much luggage he'd sent two of his soldiers with a van to haul it all across the territory.

Later, I opened my own place, a discreet clinic that treated made men and their families off the books, and its name grew bigger and bigger, whispered with respect in the right rooms.

All those old clothes, the ones that no longer fit my new standing, I had to grit my teeth and give away.

Lorenzo watched me cling to them, reluctant to let go, and comforted me gently.

"Don't be sad, tesoro."

"Here's what we'll do. For every old one you let go, I'll buy you a new one. I promise you'll get back everything you lost. How about it?"

Back then, I hugged him tight, moved, and kissed him hard.

But before the first new outfit ever arrived at the gates, Lorenzo's mother came to our door.

That was when I learned the Falcone name sat among the oldest and most feared bloodlines in the whole territory.

Serafina Falcone, naturally, had no use for an ordinary girl who'd clawed her way out of a nothing little town to build something of her own.

Under her interference, we broke apart and came back together, again and again.

In the end, Lorenzo shut himself away and refused food for a week, until he collapsed and had to be rushed to the clinic. Only then did she relent.

When I saw Lorenzo, his tall frame had wasted down to skin and bone.

The doctor's expression was grave.

"The patient has carried a severe stomach condition since childhood, and after starving himself this long, his stomach is extremely fragile right now."

"From now on he must be very careful with his diet, and do everything possible to keep the condition from flaring up again, or it could very likely turn to cancer."

In a world where a man's weakness is the blade his enemies sharpen, a sickness like that was a thing to be guarded like a state secret. Serafina understood that better than anyone.

She came to me herself.

The iron matriarch who ruled the Family from behind her son was out of options when it came to his stubbornness.

Her brow was heavy with worry, but her eyes, when they turned to me, were as cold as ever.

"I'll agree to let the two of you be together, but you accept one condition of mine."

Hope had barely risen in my chest when, the next second, her words left me frozen where I stood.

"I want you to give up your clinic and stay home. Full-time. To watch over what Lorenzo eats."

At the time, my clinic was already known in the right circles. I'd tended to men whose names were never spoken aloud, and their wives, and their children.

A small-town girl with no name behind her, I'd made it step by step to where I was, and luck, it has to be said, had played a large part in it.

Even if I got to do it all over again, I couldn't guarantee I'd ever reach the same place.

Giving up my clinic meant giving up everything I had, tying my whole life to Lorenzo alone.

Yet the next second, I agreed without a moment's hesitation.

I believed in Lorenzo's love, believed it would never change, not through shifting stars, not till the seas ran dry and the rocks crumbled.

We settled the alliance soon after and held the wedding, both bloodlines watching from either side of the aisle.

After the wedding I stayed inside those walls, spending my days figuring out how to nurse Lorenzo's stomach back to health.

Lorenzo took his place as heir to the Family, run off his feet with the empire every single day.

I don't know when the thing between us started to change.

Maybe it was when I saw an outfit I liked and asked Lorenzo to help me choose, and he pushed me away, impatient, one flat palm pressed to his stomach the way it always went when something in him refused to sit right.

"You stay behind these gates all day and never go anywhere. What do you need that many clothes for?"

He'd forgotten his promise.

After that, the clothes I gave away kept piling up, and my half of the closet grew emptier and emptier.

The few new pieces I managed to coax out of him now and then couldn't fill the gaps.

Just like whatever was left between Lorenzo and me.

I'd made my bet and lost. Lost it completely.

My phone chimed with its special tone. A message from Lorenzo.

"The girl's coming to the house for dinner tonight. Get things ready."