The Don’s Runaway Wife

By the time I returned to the Moretti estate, the sky was already dark.

The moment I stepped into the grand hall, Margaret, the housekeeper, hurried over.

The moment she saw how pale I looked, concern flashed across her face and she asked carefully, “Madam… are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Margaret. I need you to do something for me.”

Without waiting for a response, I walked straight into the dressing room and motioned for her to start taking down the dresses and the expensive jewelry from the display cabinets.

“Call the auction house. I want all of this sold.”

Margaret froze where she stood.

“But… these are all gifts from the Don…”

“Just do it.”

She hesitated for a second, then nodded and stepped out to make the call.

By the afternoon the representatives from the auction house had already arrived.

They were just about to move the crates out of the estate when the front doors opened.

Victor had returned.

He filled the doorway the moment he stepped inside, tall and broad-shouldered, his tailored suit fitting perfectly over his powerful frame.

His deep blue eyes were cold as winter seas, his sharply sculpted features carrying the unmistakable elegance of old European bloodlines.

There was something inherently dangerous about him, the kind of quiet authority that made people instinctively lower their gaze.

Even with a strip of gauze across his temple and a faint pallor still lingering on his face, nothing diminished the commanding presence that surrounded him.

His eyes moved across the room and landed on the packed crates and the men from the auction house.

His brow drew together slightly.

“What’s going on here?”

“I’m sending them to auction. I don’t want them anymore.”

Victor looked at me for several seconds, his gaze deep and unreadable as if weighing something. Then he gave a small nod.

“Alright. I’ve already asked someone to prepare a new collection of dresses and jewelry for you. They’ll be delivered in a couple of days.”

“And that pink sports car you liked? I bought it. It should arrive this week.”

Before, I would have thrown my arms around his neck and kissed him for something like that.

Now I felt nothing.

I simply couldn’t understand why he was still willing to spend time and money on me.

Was responsibility really more important than being with the woman he actually loved?

He leaned down and brushed a kiss against my forehead, his voice soft and intimate.

“About last night, I really did have urgent business. Don’t stay mad at me. I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

Before I could respond, he continued casually,

“By the way, today is your father’s birthday. I postponed a meeting with the family captains. We’ll go to the Rossi house together later.”

A sharp pain stabbed through my chest.

My father’s birthday had never been something I looked forward to.

Growing up, my parents had always favored Stella.

No matter what gift I brought them, their reaction was always distant and lukewarm.

But during these past three years, every time I went back to the Rossi estate Victor had accompanied me.

When my parents criticized me or tried to pick me apart, he would either step in quietly or shift the conversation somewhere else.

Sometimes he would even take my hand under the table, squeezing it lightly.

It always felt like he was telling me without words that he was on my side.

But now…

All I could see in my mind was the way he had shielded Stella.

And the words he had said.

What concerns you matters more.

Maybe the only reason he wanted to go tonight was because Stella would be there.

“I don’t want to go,” I said.

Victor was loosening his cufflinks. “Elena, don’t be difficult. They’re still your parents.”

A sudden thought crossed my mind then— I was leaving soon anyway, and before I disappeared from their lives completely, perhaps I should see them one last time.

“Alright,” I said quietly.

“I’ll go change.”

I changed into a simple black dress.

By the time we arrived at the Rossi estate, my parents were already waiting in the living room.

The moment Victor walked in, both my father and mother stood up immediately to greet him.

Their smiles were warm and almost eager.

“Victor, you’re here!”

Their enthusiasm nearly overflowed, but the moment their eyes shifted to me the smiles faded.

“Elena is here too,” my mother said flatly as she looked me up and down, her brows knitting together slightly. “You look terrible. Were you drinking again at the banquet last night?”

My father frowned as well, his tone clearly displeased. “I also heard that you left the banquet early and caused quite a scene.”

He paused, his gaze growing darker. “Elena, you represent more than the Rossi family now. You’re the wife of the head of the Moretti syndicate. If people start thinking you can’t control yourself in public, it reflects badly on Victor.”

If this had happened before, Victor would have defended me.

But today…

He simply sat on the sofa, looking down at his phone as if he hadn’t noticed any of it.

I watched my parents’ cold, judgmental expressions, then glanced at Victor in silent desperation, hoping he would say something.

The next second he lifted his head.

“Where’s Stella?” he asked. “I didn’t see her.”

My mother looked slightly surprised before smiling again.

“We arranged a dinner for her tonight with a very promising young man. Since Elena has been married for three years already, it’s time Stella began considering her own future.”

In that moment, I clearly saw the expression on Victor’s face change.