The Underboss's Seven Day Ruin

"Forget it! For all the years you've given the family... Just... don't. Go!"

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

But Sofia stomped her foot, dissatisfied.

"Dante, I'm going to be the Donna of this family! Don't I get any say at all?"

Dante, who had always indulged her, shot her a sharp, warning look, telling her to shut up.

Then, his expression softened as he faced me. He wired a large sum to my account and promised,

"Don't worry. The family doesn't forget its own. We take care of those who've served us well. Though you're leaving for now, you won't lose a penny of what you're owed. It just needs a little time."

"As for your compensation, I'll have it sorted for you in seven days. Go home and rest."

He thought I still didn't know his amnesia was an act. He naively believed that in seven days, he could use his "injury" as an excuse, apologize, beg for my forgiveness, and everything would return to normal.

But this hands-off boss had no idea that the deadline for our most important transaction with the Russians was only seven days away.

The project involved a staggering amount of money. If it fell through, he'd face a massive penalty for breach of contract and could even trigger a war between the two families.

If this had happened before, for the stability of the family and his position, I would have shouldered the humiliation and swallowed the bitterness alone.

But I'd grown tired of it all long ago. This family, and him... I was done with both.

Standing before me, Dante subconsciously reached out to smooth a stray strand of my hair, then abruptly remembered his role and let his hand fall.

I glanced at my phone and rejected the transfer.

I deleted his name from my encrypted contacts with a single, clean swipe.

After that was done, I looked at him calmly.

"Dante, I want to leave the Moretti family."

Dante was stunned, blurting out, "You want to leave the family? Why?"

The moment the words escaped, he realized his slip and hastily corrected himself.

"Leave? That's insane. Sofia is my woman. I don't even know who you are."

Watching his clumsy performance, I couldn't be bothered to call his bluff or waste my breath arguing.

So I played along and spun a tale of my own.

"I'm the one who deceived you to get where I am. Now, let's go see the Don."

Hearing this, Sofia beamed and urged, "That's what should have happened long ago. Let's go right now."

Dante hesitated, his brow furrowing. He seemed determined to brush the whole thing aside, ignoring the gaping holes in my story.

"Hold on. This feels... off. Let's not be rash. I'll decide later."

I was baffled.

Doesn't he love Sofia? I'm offering to step aside and make way for them, so why is he fighting it?

In the past, I would have pressed him, ridiculously asking if he'd ever loved me.

Now, I couldn't be bothered to guess his motives. I just wanted out.

I raised an eyebrow, prodding him. "You object? Is it because you can't bear to let me go?"