The Don’s Wife Was Never Running

The next morning, I called my lawyer and told him to draw up the divorce papers. Then I drove into Manhattan to the Capelli International headquarters.

The receptionist stared at me in shock when I walked in. "Mrs. Capelli! We didn’t expect you today."

"I’m here to resign," I said calmly.

I walked past her, down the hallway to my office.

My desk was neat, my files were organized, a photo of Vincent and me sitting on a Sicilian beach sat on the corner of my desk.

I picked up the photo, stared at it for a long moment, then put it in the trash can.

The head of HR arrived ten minutes later, her expression neutral but tense. "Mrs. Capelli, are you sure about this? Don Capelli has no idea you’re resigning. He’ll be furious."

I smiled faintly. "He’s got more important things to worry about right now."

She hesitated, then handed me the resignation papers. I signed them without a second thought.

When I got back to the safe house, I started packing my things. I didn’t have much—just a few clothes, some books, and a small wooden box under the bed.

I opened the box, and a yellowed piece of paper fell out.

I picked it up, my hands shaking. It was a note Vincent had written to me the night before our wedding.

Bella,

I don’t know what the future holds. But I know that as long as I have you, I can face anything. I love you more than life itself. Never leave me.

Forever yours,

Vincent

Tears fell onto the paper, blurring the words.

A sharp, stabbing pain hit my stomach, so intense I doubled over.

I gasped for air, clutching my stomach as the world spun around me.

The old bullet wound, acting up again.

The last thing I remembered before everything went black was the sound of my phone ringing.

......

When I woke up, I was lying on the couch. The sun had set, and the room was dark. My phone was still ringing, shrilly, from the floor.

I picked it up, wincing as my stomach protested.

"Isabella!" Vincent’s voice roared through the speaker, so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

I closed my eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Don’t play dumb with me!" he shouted. "Sofia just showed me the texts you sent her! Telling her her children are abominations, that they deserve to die! How could you say that?!"

I laughed, a bitter, empty sound. He didn’t even ask if I’d sent them. He just believed her.

"Are you done?" I asked calmly.

He fell silent for a second. "The baptism is this Sunday. You will be there. No excuses. Don’t make me come and get you."

"Fine," I said.

I hung up the phone and threw it across the room. It hit the wall and shattered into pieces.

I lay back on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

I had nothing left. Nothing at all.