The Woman He Let Go Eight Times

In the past, during our first few divorces, I was pathetic. I used to follow Dominic and Gianna around the city like a masochist. I would sit in my parked car outside Family-owned restaurants, watching through the tinted glass as he showered her with the kind of tender love and affection he never gave me.

He would buy her entire boutiques, kiss her forehead, and look at her like she hung the stars. It broke my heart into a million pieces, but I swallowed the pain.

I was willing to stay, willing to endure the humiliation, just for the scraps of his attention.

But everything changed a few months ago, on his birthday.

I had just found out I was pregnant. Overjoyed and terrified, I bought a custom cake and went to his private social club to surprise him with the news. I thought a baby might finally make us a real family.

Instead, I got the surprise of my life.

I was standing outside the back room, my hand hovering over the doorknob, when I heard him talking to his underboss.

"I don't care about Bianca," Dominic's voice drifted through the crack in the door, cold and annoyed. "She's just a placeholder. Honestly, by our ninth ceremony, I'm going to cut her loose and pull her mother's medical funding for good. Gianna told me she's finally getting tired of moving between safe houses. She wants to settle down soon, and when she does, I'm going to make it official with her."

The cake slipped from my hands, ruining the icing on the carpet. I ran out of the social club and stumbled into a cheap bar, drinking until I couldn't feel the ground beneath my feet.

I cried until my eyes were swollen shut.

But the nightmare was just beginning. On my way home, walking through a dark street on the edge of Castellano territory, a group of thugs dragged me into a filthy alley. I was terrified.

As they tore at my clothes and hit me, I managed to dial Dominic's number, praying he would come save me.

The phone rang and rang, until he finally rejected the call.

Later, I found out he was busy picking Gianna up from a private airstrip because she had decided to make a surprise visit.

I was beaten, robbed, and left in the dirt. I had to drag my own bleeding body to a clinic. I lost my baby that night on a cold linoleum floor, all alone.

So right now? I didn't care anymore. The woman who loved Dominic died in that clinic.

After dropping my suitcase at my friend's apartment tonight, I decided to go to a high-end lounge downtown, a place on neutral ground where none of the Five Families held sway. Not to drown my sorrows, but to finally celebrate being untied from him.

I ordered a strong cocktail and drank, letting the burn soothe my throat.

"Celebrating something?" a deep, smooth voice asked.

I turned to see a strikingly handsome man sitting on the stool next to me. I didn't know it yet, but this was Lorenzo, the Don of the Ferraro Family, the rival syndicate that had been carving into Castellano territory and bleeding Dominic's operations for the past year.

"My freedom," I replied, clinking my glass against his.

We talked and drank, the conversation flowing easily. For the first time in years, I felt like a normal woman.

I was so engrossed in the conversation that I didn't even realize Dominic and Gianna had walked into the lounge.

"Bianca? Hi!" a sickeningly sweet voice chirped.

I turned around. Gianna was standing there, clinging to Dominic's arm.

Dominic looked at me, his brows furrowed in deep displeasure, clearly shocked to see me out drinking instead of crying at home like I usually did.

"I'm so sorry," Gianna continued, offering a fake, apologetic smile that didn't reach her eyes. "But I actually just paid for this entire lounge to be closed off so Dominic and I can celebrate my return privately. Would you mind going out?"

Dominic crossed his arms, his posture arrogant.

He was waiting for my usual meltdown. He expected me to throw a drink, to scream, to beg him not to kick me out.

I just set my glass down and grabbed my purse. "Sure."

Dominic's arrogant expression faltered. He looked completely stunned, his arms dropping to his sides as he stared at my calm face.

Before the silence could stretch, the man next to me stood up, adjusting his expensive suit jacket. He looked down at me with a charming smile, completely ignoring Dominic and Gianna. Two soldiers standing near the entrance shifted their weight, hands drifting beneath their jackets, reading the tension in the room the way men in this world always did.

"Well, what about coming with me, lady?" Lorenzo asked, offering me his hand. "We can continue celebrating your freedom somewhere much better."

I smiled up at him. "Sure."

I took Lorenzo's hand and we walked right past them, leaving Dominic frozen in place.

We stepped out into the cool night air and walked toward Lorenzo's sleek black car, an enforcer already holding the rear door open.

I was just about to reach for the passenger door handle when heavy, furious footsteps approached from behind.

A strong hand clamped down on my wrist, yanking me back so hard I crashed into a solid chest.

Dominic pulled me close, his fingers digging into my skin.

His eyes were blazing with a dark, terrifying possessiveness as he glared at Lorenzo over my head.

"No," Dominic snarled, his voice vibrating with rage. "You're mine. You're not coming with him."