When the Don Wept for Her

I ignored her confusion and let my gaze fall on the ring on my left hand. It was a simple platinum band with a large diamond set in the center, and our initials were engraved on the side.

Dante had bought it for me during the first year he built his empire.

Back then, he worked eighteen‑hour days, used borrowed money to bribe dock inspectors, and slept three hours a night on the office couch.

He nearly bankrupted himself to buy it.

After he paid, he had sixty dollars left in his wallet. He laughed when he told me that number, then kissed me in our tiny kitchen.

“Sixty dollars is enough for pasta, cheap wine, and a future that is ours.”

He said, “One day, I will give you everything. Tonight, I am giving you this ring and myself.”

I pulled him close and kissed him. “I believe you. As long as you love me, as long as I am by your side, we can do anything.”

I meant every word back then. Now, standing in that boutique with the cold ring in my hand, all I felt was how foolish I had been.

I slowly pulled the ring off my finger. The skin beneath it was pale from years of being covered.

I held it out to Viviana.

“Take it,” I said. “It is yours.”

Her eyes locked onto the diamond at once. Desire flashed across her face before she hid it.

She looked up, suspicious. “You expect me to believe you would give this to me? Out of the kindness of your heart?”

“Of course not.”

I opened my purse and pulled out a thick manila envelope. Inside was a divorce agreement I had already signed in black ink.

I placed it in her empty hand.

“Give this to Dante. Have him sign it. Then we are done.”

Viviana stared at the envelope like it might bite her.

“Viviana? Where are you?”

Dante’s voice echoed from upstairs. He was awake.

Viviana snatched the envelope and shoved me out the door.

“Viviana, who were you talking to?”

Dante came down the spiral staircase, his hair slightly disheveled from sleep, and exhaustion still lingered on his face.

Viviana’s expression turned innocent at once.

“No one,” she said softly. “Only someone who got scared off by the prices.”

Dante frowned and swept his gaze over the empty sidewalk outside. “I thought I heard—”

For a split second when he woke up, he thought he had heard my voice.

Viviana tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You must be imagining things.” Her tone was tight with nerves. “I found what I wanted. Let us go.”

He almost nodded. Then he saw the ring in Viviana’s hand.

“Where did you get that ring?” His voice was low and dangerous.

Before she could answer, he snatched it from her.

He recognized the weight at once. The cut. The setting. And that scratch.

Years ago, after a grueling week of negotiations, he had walked straight into traffic without looking. I had risked my life to push him out of the way.

I broke my wrist. The ring scraped against the pavement and left a permanent scar.

For an entire month, he kissed my cast every night and kissed that ring.

There was no other ring like it in the world. It was mine.

His breathing quickened.

“Where did you get this?” he asked again.

Viviana panicked and lied. “I found it. Maybe some socialite dropped it…”

“Impossible.” His voice sharpened. “Was Tessa just here?”

He remembered the words he had barely heard earlier, something about not wanting it anymore and divorce papers.

A wave of panic surged up his spine.