When Love Turns Deadly : Claimed by a Mafia King

Laura

"Have you ever thought about what you’re saying, Laura?"

Oliver’s voice sliced through the silence like a blade. His eyes were sharp, cold, accusatory. "You forgave them for everything. Why are you acting like a child now?"

He dropped my hand when he saw me crying—for the first time because of the triplets’ cruelty. He wiped his face like he was scrubbing me from his skin.

"I have work. I might not come home tonight."

And just like that, he left—again. No fight, no warmth. Just an empty page and a woman out of reasons to beg.

I didn’t chase him. Not this time.

I knelt beside what was left of Pebble’s head. Her body was too mangled to recognize, and I dug a grave with my bare hands, uneven and fresh.

I didn’t even sleep in my bed that night. I slept on top of Pebble’s grave. My cheek pressed against the cold earth. My eyes too swollen to cry anymore.

At dawn, a message from Mrs. Hudson lit up my phone: Let’s talk. Meet me.

The reading room in the Hudson residence was empty when I arrived. She sat with folded hands, her tired eyes looking at me.

"I heard about Pebble," she said, her voice heavy. "They crossed a line."

I didn’t say anything. For the first time, I didn’t defend the children who’d broken me. I didn’t make excuses. They’re just kids had long since stopped being a defense.

"Have you really made up your mind, Laura?" Her voice trembled slightly. "I still believe you can win their hearts. Win Oliver’s. You just need more time."

Time.

Seven years. That’s how long I’ve been here. Seven years of giving, sacrificing, waiting.

I remembered the love story everyone used to admire—Oliver and Maureen, childhood sweethearts turned picture-perfect couple. Together since they were one year old, through school and beyond. But as adults, Oliver dated other women, disappointing Maureen who had hoped for more.

Years later, Maureen suddenly told me Oliver wanted to marry her. I was happy for her, especially after she gave birth to triplets in their second year of marriage.

But that perfection came at a price. After Maureen died, Oliver became a ghost. A man who let his children rot in grief while he hid in boardrooms and meetings.

That’s when Mrs. Hudson came to me. “Help them,” she said. “Heal my son. Raise his children.”

So I did. I stepped in. I gave my life to keep them together. I never wore a wedding ring. I never shared a bedroom. I was a shadow with a title.

As for the triplets, they grew up like most babies do. They loved me when they were small, kissing the woman who helped them take their first steps. But as they grew, something changed. They stopped showing warmth and respect. Instead, they looked at me like I was the villain.

They started linking me to their mother’s death, planting hatred and treating me cruelly.

But I endured. And every day I told myself: They’ll learn to love me.

They didn’t. They never tried.

And now I’m done pretending they might.

Mrs. Hudson didn’t argue anymore. She reached into her bag and handed me a folder.

Divorce papers.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t panic. I felt... free.

But freedom comes with its own cruelty.

When I got back to the house, the first thing I saw wasn’t a vase flying at my feet. It was a suitcase. My suitcase, the one I’d kept hidden under the bed for years. Packed. Zipped. Waiting by the door.

Luca stood beside it with a crooked smile. “We figured you’d want to spend another night on your dog’s grave.”

“We packed for you,” Levi added, face blank. “A goodbye gift. For all your years of service.”

I turned to Leon.

Silent. Always silent.

But this time, he smiled. And it wasn’t a smile of peace—it was a smile of victory. The kind he only ever gave his father.

Then came the voice that snapped the last thread holding me there.

“Hey honey, who’s here?”

Amber, Oliver’s first love.

She walked into that house like she owned it. Like she’d never left. Her red lips curled upward in fake surprise.

“Oh—it’s you, Laura,” she said, sweet as a seasoned actress. “Looks like the kids helped you pack. Headed out?”

My jaw tightened. My hands clenched. But I didn’t say a word.

Amber turned back to the children.

“Come on, sweethearts. Snacks are waiting. Daddy’s in the living room.”

“Yay! Aunt Amber, you’re the best!” Luca cheered, bounding forward.

Amber’s laughter followed them down the hallway.

Leon didn’t say a single word. Never looked back at me.

And I… stood alone.

Again.

But this time, it would be the last.