The Forgotten Wife of the Mafia Boss

For the next seven days, Alessandro didn’t come home.

Instead, he was seen everywhere else.

Bianca stood beside him at a charity auction hosted by the De Luca foundation. She attended Sunday Mass at Palermo Cathedral with him. She was present at a private dinner with two capos from the western coast.

It wasn’t public news. They didn’t need to be. In Sicily, word traveled through people, not headlines.

My mother called me first.

“She was standing next to him,” she said carefully. “Not behind him.”

On the eighth day, I went to the De Luca palazzo.

No one tried to stop me.

The office was quiet when I walked in. Bianca was at the large table near the windows, going through paperwork.

She froze when she saw me.

“Seraphina,” she said softly.

I didn’t let her finish.

The slap was clean. Sharp.

No screaming. Just silence.

“If Alessandro wants to protect you,” I said calmly, “that’s his decision. But understand your position. As long as this marrige stands, you are nothing more than his employee.”

Her eyes filled, but she didn’t argue.

“Enough.”

Alessandro’s voice cut through the room.

He crossed the space between us and stopped beside her.

“You’ve made your point.”

“She shouldn’t be here,” I replied.

“She works for me,” he said calmly.

“I’m not asking about her job,” I said. “I’m asking about us.”

His gaze sharpened.

“This isn’t about us.”

“Then what is it about?”

He looked decided.

“Last year,” he said, “before we made our engagement public, Bianca was pregnant.”

“She miscarried,” he continued. “I wasn’t told until after it happened. By the time I knew, it was already done.”

“You never told me.”

“It was over,” he said. “There was no point bringing it up.”

“That’s your answer?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t hesitate.

“It happened while she was under De Luca protection,” he said. “If it involves me, it involves the De Luca name. I’ll handel it.”

What stayed with me wasn’t that Bianca had been pregnant, and it wasn’t that she had once been his first love.

It was the way he spoke about it.

There was no guilt. No regret. No hesitation.

He wasn’t defending her because he loved her.

He wasn’t protecting her because he felt guilty.

He was protecting the De Luca name.

All those things he had done to win me back — standing outside my gates, making promises in front of our families, announcing our engagement to the whole city — I used to think that meant he chose me. Now I wasn’t so sure what he had chosen.

“You think this is about resiponsibility?” I asked.

“It’s about what I owe,” he said. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t broken up with me back then.”

“So this is my fault?” I said quietly. “And what do you owe me?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he said, “The slap was unnecessary.”

I let out a small, breathless laugh. “She’s been standing next to you for a week.”

“She collapsed after you hit her,” he said. “The doctor says she’s unstable.”

I looked at him.

“So am I.”

He didn’t argue.

He just looked at me.

Like he believed he was doing the right thing.

And that was when it became clear.

He would always protect what carried the De Luca name.

Even if that meant pushing me aside.

For the first time, a thought crossed my mind—

If he ever found out about the baby,

would he care because it was ours…

or because it was his heir?

“You need time away from this,” he said.

“I’m not a child.”

“No,” he replied. “You’re not.”

He stepped closer.

“There’s too much noise around this marrige right now. Too many eyes.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’ve arranged for you to stay at the countryside house for a few days.”

I stared at him.

“You’re sending me away.”

“It’s temporary.”

“To hide me?”

“To let things cool down.”

He said it like it was reasonable.

Two men were already waiting outside the office.

Loyal to the De Luca family. Not to me.

“If I refuse?” I said. “I can file for an annulment. It won’t damage your reputation. We can say this marriage never happened.”

He held my gaze.

“Forget the annulment,” he said. “You’re not walking away from this unless I say so. Without my approval, the annulment doesn’t move forward.”

That was the reality.

The lawyers worked for his family. The agreements went through his office. Nothing happened without his signature.

He stepped back.

“I’ll send someone to pick you up.”

He turned and walked toward the door.

Bianca stood behind him, quiet, composed, as if everything had settled into place. For a moment, I found myself wondering whether this was love, or just what he called responsibility.

He said it was about the De Luca name, about what he owed. But men do not stand that firmly for something that means nothing.

But if he didn’t love me anymore, why keep the marriage at all?

The two men escorted me to the car.

I looked out the window as Alessandro’s figure grew smaller and smaller.

The gates closed behind us.

Only then did the tears come.

I rested a hand over my belly.

He still didn’t know.

And now, I wasn’t sure he ever would.