My Mafia Fiancé Cheats; I Buy the Club

When I got home, my phone was practically exploding. Missed calls and frantic messages from Vincenzo and Valentina flooded the screen.

I put it on silent and tossed it into the corner of the couch like trash. I peeled off the gorgeous but freezing gown and changed into my most comfortable pajamas.

I stood in front of the mirror and stared at myself. My makeup was gone, leaving behind my pale face and exhaustion pooling beneath my eyes.

I was nothing like the young woman from five years ago. That person had been vibrant, her face always glowing with happiness.

I stood there for a long time. Then tears came without warning and rolled down to my lips, their saltiness spreading across my tongue.

For Vincenzo, I'd given up my chance to study abroad. I'd abandoned a promising career. I'd stayed in Emaly for him, carving out a little haven for us in a world of guns and smoke.

For five whole years, I'd poured everything I had into becoming a Rossi. I thought I'd be his everything. But it turned out I was nothing, just something disposable.

The sound of a key turning violently in the lock came from outside. I quickly wiped away my tears. When I turned around, I found myself face-to-face with Vincenzo's furious expression.

He burst in like an enraged bull. His eyes were bloodshot, and his suit jacket was thrown carelessly over his arm.

He reeked of another woman's cheap perfume. The smell was sharp and nauseating.

"Grazia! You've really grown some nerve, haven't you!"

He stormed up to me, reeking of alcohol, his voice a roar.

"How long have you been sleeping with those male escorts? Have you been cheating on me this whole time? Did you really throw away your dignity just to get back at me?"

I looked at him and suddenly found it all ridiculous. I laughed coldly.

"You're the one who was making out with another woman at the club. Not me.

"You're the one who had your tongue down someone else's throat. Not me."

Vincenzo choked on his words. The fury on his face slowly gave way to guilt and panic.

"Grazia, I was wrong. I just drank too much and wasn't thinking straight. It was just for show.

"I swear, you're the only one in my heart. You've always been the only one. Please forgive me this once, okay?"

He started playing his favorite card—the emotional manipulation. It was his go-to weapon after every mistake, and it had never failed him before.

In the past, I'd always softened. But today, watching his clumsy, fake performance, I only felt disgusted.

I yanked my hand away from his like I'd touched something filthy.

"Vincenzo Rossi." My voice came out steady and cold. "We're done."

The room went silent. Vincenzo stood frozen in place, like he was seeing me for the first time.

A few seconds later, he suddenly laughed. The sound was full of contempt and disdain.

"Done?"

It was like I'd just told the world's funniest joke. He clenched his jaw, his eyes dark as they raked over me from head to toe.

"Grazia."

He moved closer, step by step, his voice dripping with the arrogance of someone who thought he owned me.

"This house you're living in? I bought it. That car you drive? I gave it to you. Every breath of air you take on this land, I'm the one paying for it."

He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. "Without me, how are you going to survive?"