The Don’s Wife Was Never His to Keep

In the darkness, the phone screen lit up.

It was an encrypted message from my brother Matteo.

"Elite team arrives in Chicago in three days. Wait for me, Arabella.The Falcone family owes you.I will make them pay back tenfold, a hundredfold.

I stared at this message,my eyes burned with unshed tears.

The next second, the door was suddenly pushed open from the outside.

Santino strode in, his fierce eyes locking onto the phone in my hand.

He crossed the room in three long strides and snatched it from me.

The screen went dark at that exact moment.

He didn't try to unlock it. He just tossed it onto the expensive Persian rug.

He reached out, his fingers digging into my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

“Why did you stop making a scene downstairs just now?” Santino’s tone carried a scrutinizing edge.

I looked him straight in the eye, my voice completely flat.

“Didn’t you always complain that I had a bad temper and tell me to be more generous? I gave her both the ring and the bracelet. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

A flicker of complex emotion crossed Santino’s eyes.

He released my chin, wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me into his embrace.

He smelled faintly of tobacco and Fiora’s perfume.The mixture of the two scents made my stomach churn.

Santino lowered his head, his lips brushing against my ear.

"Arabella,I know you were wronged today.Fiora's brother, Carlo, died saving my life. He was my most loyal man. I have to take care of her."

"As long as you behave yourself, you will always have a place in the Falcone family. You are still the woman I, Santino, love the most."

He was making me a promise, in a condescending, charitable manner.

He thought I would be grateful for these words.

I looked at his confident face and felt a wave of sorrow.

Seven years.

He never knew me at all.

Just then,A rapid knock sounded on the door.

Fiora's delicate voice came through the door.

Santino, I'm having a panic attack! I saw Carlo—he's bleeding! Can you come stay with me?”

Without the slightest hesitation, Santino turned to leave the room.Just as he reached the door, he paused and looked back at me.

"There's a joint dinner with the Five Families tomorrow night. I'm taking Fiora," he said. "She's new to the city. She doesn't have anything that commands the room. That haute couture gown in your closet—have the tailor alter it for her tomorrow."

I stared at him in disbelief.

Five years ago, when he crowned me his Donna, he had a master tailor in Milan make that dress just for me.

The Falcone eagle crest was hand-embroidered into the black velvet skirt using pure gold thread and nine hundred and ninety-nine crushed diamonds.

It was my greatest honor, my absolute treasure. I never even let the maids touch it.

Once, a maid in the villa sneaked in to try it on. I put a bullet in her leg and had her thrown out of Chicago.

Santino even praised me for doing the right thing back then.

He said anyone who touched what was mine would die.

And now, he himself was asking me to give this dress to Fiora.

My nails dug into my palms until they almost bled.

I looked at his self-righteous expression and nodded slowly.

"Fine. I'll have it sent over tomorrow."

Santino gave me a long look, pushed the door open, and left.

Down the hall, I heard his soft whispers comforting Fiora. Then came the heavy thud of the door closing next door.

I picked up my phone, glanced at the date on it, and let out a deep breath.

Two more days until I was gone.

Santino, seven years ago you pulled me out of a gang shootout and gave me a second life.

Over these seven years, I’ve taken bullets for you, eliminated traitors for you. With my talent for forgery, I built your entire underground art empire for you.

Santino, we don't owe each other a thing anymore.