After the Divorce, My Ex-Husband Repents Behind Bars for Life

The hemorrhaging knocked me out cold for another full day.

When I came to, Leon happened to be pushing the door open. He rushed to me, panic on his face, and gripped my hand tight.

I could see the lipstick print on his collar, plain as day.

"You were fine, so how did you suddenly start bleeding out like that? Do you have any idea how terrified I was?"

Sweat beaded across his forehead, and his eyes were rimmed with red.

He looked so heartbroken and devoted that anyone watching would have sworn he loved me to death.

I pulled my hand back and wiped it on the sheet like it was filthy, then told him, "Let's get a divorce."

"What?"

He stared at me, disbelief in every line of his face. "Over a lump of dead tissue, you want a divorce?"

"Elodie, when did you turn into someone this unreasonable?!"

He had more to say, but his phone suddenly rang.

He glanced at the caller ID, then looked back at me. "I already told you, we lost the kid, we can have another. But if you're going to keep using my love for you to drag this out forever, then I'm done indulging you. Think it through, then call me."

I watched his resolute back as he walked off, and felt nothing inside, calm as still water.

Maybe he still didn't grasp what losing me would actually mean.

Once he was well out of sight, I picked up the phone and called his half-brother, Cole. "I think it's time the Ashford family had a new Don."

All these years, I'd fought and bled for Leon, survived death more times than I could count, and that was how I'd built the Ashford family into the power it was today.

Everyone envied Leon his pack of men who would die for him without a second thought.

What they didn't know was that I was the real heart of the whole organization.

If I wanted it, I could put anyone I chose in that position.

A few hours later, a friend request popped up on my phone.

I had a pretty good idea who it was, so I accepted it.

She didn't say a word, but a minute earlier a new post had gone up on her feed.

In the photo, a man in a pink apron stood cooking at the stove.

The caption read: "Pregnancy's made her so picky about food. Lucky she's got me. Love you."

I stared at the photo, calm, and suddenly thought back to my own early weeks of pregnancy.

The morning sickness had killed my appetite for days, and all I'd craved were the noodles Leon used to make.

But when I asked him for them, he'd been so impatient. "I'm the Don now. Cooking my own meals? How undignified!"

Looking back now, it was never the title holding him back.

It was that I'd never been worth even a sliver of his tenderness.

I quietly switched off the phone, looked out the window, and let my palm settle on my stomach.

“Don't worry, baby. Mommy is going to make them pay for this!”

A week later, I was discharged.

But I didn't rush off. First I tracked down the doctor who'd treated Leon back then.

With his help, I got hold of Leon's medical file.

And just as I stepped out of his office, someone slammed hard into me.

The file in my hands scattered across the floor.

"Are you blind?!" Leon snapped, Mia tucked tight behind him, glaring at me.

He clearly hadn't expected it to be me. The instant he registered my face, a flicker of panic crossed it. He let go of Mia and came over. "Elodie. What are you doing here?"

I ignored him and bent down to gather up the file.

But Leon got to it a step ahead of me. "What is this?"