Ten Years, One Abandonment

Night had already fallen when Anthony returned to Saint Laurent Manor.

When he pushed the door open, he saw Mabel sitting on the sofa. The lights were off. Moonlight spilled in through the windows, stretching her silhouette into something lonely and cold.

Seeing her like this, his heart softened despite himself. The agitation from earlier ebbed away.

He crouched in front of her, lowering his voice. "Does your arm still hurt? I'm sorry. I didn't control my strength. Let me apply the medicine for you."

Mabel said nothing, only turning away from his touch.

Anthony sighed and took out the gift he had prepared.

"The emerald jewelry set you liked at the last auction.

"I know you're still upset about Cheryl, but we're family. Don’t let an outsider come between us."

She finally reacted, but instead of looking at the jewelry, she reached beneath the cushion and pulled out a stack of documents.

"I don't need an apology. Just sign these."

On top was a Withdrawal Agreement from the Oliver family. Beneath it lay the divorce papers.

"Mabel, are you out of your mind?"

Anthony sprang to his feet and slammed the papers onto the coffee table. Pages scattered everywhere, sliding across the floor.

"You want a divorce? Over something this trivial? You want to leave the Family? Do you even understand what you're saying?!"

Unlike his fury, Mabel simply watched him rage in silence. Then, slowly, she curved her lips into a faint smile.

"Anthony, in your eyes, my dignity, my sacrifices, and even my life are all trivial.

"Only Cheryl's emotions matter.

"Honestly, I'm tired. If you believe she's so fragile she needs your constant protection, then I'll make space for her. As for the Donna position, whoever wants it can take it."

"You're just throwing a tantrum!" Anthony laughed in anger, pacing back and forth as he struggled to contain himself.

"When did you turn into such a dull housewife, obsessed with catching mistresses all day long?

"Cheryl is Zachary's fiancée! Zachary died saving me! Taking care of her is only right! You insist on using morality to tie my hands, forcing me to choose between duty and you… Don't you think that's cruel?"

"Cruel?" Her voice was steady, unflinching. "Or is it shameless?"

She was not afraid of confrontation, nor did she want to retreat into silence.

"You call that taking care of her? What haven't you done personally? If one day she wants a child, will you take responsibility for getting her pregnant, too?

"Do you dare to swear in front of Zachary's grave that you don't harbor a single selfish thought toward Cheryl?"

"Enough!"

Anthony cut her off violently, veins bulging at his temples.

"You're blinded by jealousy! The more you talk, the more absurd you sound! Since you can't speak rationally, take a few days to cool off before we talk again!"

He stepped on the scattered papers and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

…

Late at night.

The pain in her right arm kept Mabel awake.

She went to look for painkillers. As she passed the study, voices drifted through the crack in the door.

"Don, please don’t be angry. The Donna is only reacting so strongly because she cares about you too much. That’s why she’s hostile toward Ms. Reyes."

It was Henry, speaking cautiously—her Consigliere, always careful with his words.

"Cares about me?" Anthony's voice was heavy with exhaustion and irritation. Even through the door, Mabel could picture him rubbing his brow impatiently.

"That's caring for me? That's endless control.

"She's spoiled by my indulgence.

"She thinks that just because she's fought beside me for ten years, shed blood, and taken injuries, she's earned eternal credit. That I should yield to her in everything.

"But has she ever thought that if it weren't for me, she might already have been kidnapped, humiliated, and trampled by countless people?"

Henry hesitated. "But…she has been with you through life and death for ten years…"

"Whose sacrifice hasn't been ten years?" Anthony shot back without hesitation. "Have I ever treated her poorly?"

Unable to stop herself, Mabel leaned closer to the door, wanting to hear more, wanting to hear his true thoughts.

"The killing intent around Mabel is too heavy. Being with her, I'm always on edge. She's an excellent partner when things were bloody, but in life, she lacks the softness a woman should have. She's always too hard, too sharp.

"But Cheryl is different. She's pure and simple, like a blank sheet of paper. I have to take Zachary's place and protect her."

…

Mabel did not listen any further.

She stood in the shadows, her body going cold, each of his words stabbing straight through her organs, leaving her unable to breathe.

So the ten years she had spent fighting and the scars she had borne from shielding him with her body had become proof that she was not a normal woman.

He found her tainted.

Too hard. Not gentle enough. A butcher stained with blood.

When the situation was unstable, he praised her as his right hand, the one who stood beside him to restore the Family’s glory.

Now that he sat at the top, he claimed only with Cheryl could he forget the violence and enjoy the peace of an ordinary life.

Mabel lowered her gaze, staring at the wound in her palm that had not yet healed, and let out a self-mocking laugh.

She did not push the door open to confront him. She did not cry or make a scene.

She simply wiped away her tears and turned back toward the bedroom.

He was so certain she would not leave? That everything she did was for a tantrum?

Anthony was gravely mistaken.

In her world, there was no such thing as holding on.

Anything that did not belong to her, she would discard without hesitation.