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Rising From Ashes: The Don's Lost Queen Novel Cover

Rising From Ashes: The Don's Lost Queen

I gave up the peace of a civilian life to marry Dante, the most cold-blooded Don this city has ever known. For years, I managed the chaos of his life and respected his lethal secrets. But everything changed the moment he took a young soldier named Tess as his private secretary. He let her sit in the passenger seat of his armored SUV—a spot strictly reserved for me—and even allowed her to answer his encrypted burner phones. When I found her lipstick in his car, he simply said, "Don't be so paranoid." I knew then that we were over. So, on our fifth wedding anniversary, I left my wedding ring on his desk alongside a signed set of divorce papers. I packed a single bag and walked out of his gilded cage, finally choosing to live for myself.
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Chapter 12

Dante’s POV

"Boss!" Tess called my name twice before I snapped back to reality.

I grabbed the steel band from the desk and squeezed it tight in my fist. The cheap metal dug into my palm, but the physical sting was nothing compared to the massive void in my chest.

I refused to sign the papers. I shoved them roughly back into the envelope and threw them into a drawer.

Tess leaned over the desk, letting out a soft scoff. "She’s just throwing a tantrum. She’s threatened this before, but she’s never actually followed through."

I slowly lifted my head, a cold fury gathering in my heart. "Don’t you dare speak about my wife like that again!"

Tess took a step back, sticking her tongue out as if to break the tension.

But her dismissive words echoed in my mind, planting a seed of desperate hope.

She had to be right. Sienna was just acting out of grief. She was just throwing a tantrum.

I stood up abruptly and stormed out of headquarters. I drove through the city streets like a madman until I reached the estate gates.

I kicked open the front door and raced up the stairs to the master bedroom.

I stopped dead in the doorway.

Her presence had vanished from the room.

The closet doors were wide open. The expensive gowns I’d bought hung motionless, but her favorite, simple old clothes were gone.

The cheap toiletries on the vanity had been cleared away, and the velvet box containing the diamond jewelry I’d gifted her sat alone like a museum exhibit.

A wave of nausea hit me. I realized I hadn't been home since the Commission meeting days ago.

I pulled out my private phone and scrolled through our text history. She had changed so much since the miscarriage. No more asking about my whereabouts, no more asking for my time. Just an icy silence.

"Sienna, when are you coming home?" I typed and hit send.

I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for hours in the dark.

Just before midnight, the phone finally vibrated:

"Did you sign? I’m only coming back to finish the final paperwork."

I stared at the glowing words on the screen, feeling the air in my lungs turn to dust. I immediately hit the call button, dialing her over and over, my hands shaking uncontrollably.

The ringing suddenly stopped.

"Hello." Her voice was soft, completely devoid of emotion.

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