He Signed Our Divorce Without Looking

Dante Valieri, the most sought-after mafia lawyer in New York, had just signed his own name on my divorce papers.

But he had no idea.

Because while he was signing them, his eyes never left Camille.

The second Camille walked in, Dante had already looked up.

He watched her disappear into the lounge before finally turning back to me.

“What did I just sign?”

“Nothing important. You never really look at the things I hand you anyway.”

He started toward the lounge.

“Next time, just send it to my phone. Don’t make a special trip.”

As he closed the door behind him, I heard him say to Camille—

“You came so early. I was worried I’d miss you.”

And just like that, I was shut out on the other side of the door.

You won’t miss anything anymore, Dante.

In ten days, I’ll be going home.

After that, no one will interrupt the two of you ever again.

“Dad, I’ve decided to come home.”

“Finally ready to come back?”

My father let out a low chuckle.

“Come home, Serafina.”

“A Vescari daughter shouldn’t have to hide in New York and cry alone.”

Five years ago, I told my father I wanted to study in New York.

The truth was, I only came here for Dante.

Everyone said the Vescari princess was obedient and well-behaved.

They only saw what I let them see.

Dante had always worked for my father.

He was his man in New York.

Powerful. Untouchable.

Every day, he drove me to class and picked me up afterward.

He wouldn’t let me go to frat parties.

Wouldn’t let me drink with college boys either.

So I grabbed a bottle on purpose and drank with some handsome stranger in a nightclub.

Right in front of him.

Dante only watched from the dark.

Then he snapped the guy’s wrist for touching me.

Pressed one of his business cards against the man’s forehead.

Then he threw me over his shoulder and shoved me into the car.

He carried me back to my apartment.

I shoved him against the door and kissed him.

He didn’t push me away.

Two months later, I found out I was pregnant.

He proposed to me beneath the golden ginkgo trees in late autumn.

He said having a wedding while I was pregnant would be too exhausting.

We could go back to Chicago and do it after the baby was born.

Four months later, I lost the baby.

Looking back now, Dante always said,

“I’ll protect you.”

But he never once said,

“I love you.”

Then I found the photo album hidden in the attic.

From the time he was ten until twenty-five, every single page was Camille Arden.

And even after our marriage, he was still adding new photos.

That was when I finally understood.

The secret marriage was never about protecting me.

And it definitely wasn’t because he was afraid my father would kill him.

He was afraid Camille would find out.

Dante never drank.

In three years of marriage, I only saw him drunk once.

The night Camille got divorced.

I sat beside him all night taking care of him, hugging my knees until sunrise.

When I walked out of his office, I looked down at the divorce papers in my hands.

Then I laughed.

Dante, some people really don’t have to try at all to get your love.

When I got home, I slowly started packing my things.

Then I turned around and saw our wedding portrait hanging on the wall.

It looked almost ridiculous now.

Back then, I thought Dante just didn’t like smiling.

Now I realized it wasn’t indifference.

It was reluctance.

I took the photo frame down.

And threw it into the giant trash bin outside.

Later in the night, I slept badly.

Half-awake, I felt Dante climb into bed beside me.

His arm wrapped around my waist.

Usually, I was always the one to reach for him first.

But this time, I pulled away.

“Going to sleep already? We still haven’t handled tonight’s business.”

His voice was rough as he brushed his lips against my ear.

“Not tonight.”

Dante could flirt.

I just never knew it until our marriage was already over.

He didn’t force me again.

He only held me tighter.

But instead of comfort, all I felt was suffocation.

“What was that thing I signed today? Let me see it.”

I immediately slipped out of his arms and went to find the papers.

Right before I could place the divorce agreement into his hands,

Camille called.

Dante looked at me.

“Her ex-husband got his hands on a gun. I’m worried something might happen.”

I still hadn’t lowered the papers.

But he was already gone.

He never came home that night.

And I never slept.

While scrolling through Camille’s Instagram, I saw a sunrise by the ocean.

Beside her was the unmistakable outline of Dante’s broad shoulder.

【Darkness is finally over. Everything feels new again.】

I stared at those words for a long time.

Her new beginning was my exit from the story.