The Mafia Don's Regret: Too Late To Love

Kacie Oliver POV

The silence in the house the next morning was heavy, almost suffocating.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The nebula projector was still there, a cheap, plastic mockery of the stars I would never see with him.

Cedric came in around 8:00 AM. He didn't look at me. He strode straight to the closet and pulled out a suitcase.

"Pack a bag," he said.

"Where are we going?"

"You are going to the Old Family House in the countryside," he corrected, his voice flat. "Just for a few weeks."

I sat up. "You're kicking me out."

"I'm separating you two," he said, throwing shirts into the suitcase with efficient, dismissive motions. "The tension is bad for Jayden's recovery. And I need to stay here to handle business. She needs care."

"So you're choosing her."

He stopped. He turned to me, his face softening with that manipulative tenderness I used to mistake for love. He sat on the bed and reached for my hand.

"I'm doing this to fix us, Kacie. You need space. You're stressed. The country air will be good for your heart."

It was textbook gaslighting. He was exiling his wife so he could play house with his ward without the inconvenience of my presence.

"Okay," I said.

He blinked, surprised by my sudden surrender. "Okay?"

"I'll go."

I lied. I wasn't going to the Old House. I was going to disappear.

I went downstairs. Jayden was in the kitchen, cooking eggs. She was wearing an apron over her pajamas, playing the part of the domestic goddess.

"Good morning," she chirped, her voice sickeningly sweet. "I made breakfast."

Cedric came down behind me. "Smells good."

"You like them runny, right?" she asked, smiling at him. "Just like I used to make when we were teenagers."

"Perfect," Cedric said. He sat down at the table.

Jayden placed a plate in front of him. She leaned over, fixing his tie. Her fingers lingered on the knot, smoothing the silk against his chest. It was an intimate, wife-like gesture that made my stomach turn.

"You know," she said, glancing at me, "Cedric only married you because he felt guilty. About the neurotoxin. He told me. He said he felt like he owed you a life."

I looked at Cedric. He didn't deny it. He just ate his eggs.

His silence was the loudest thing in the room.

"We have the Gala tonight," Cedric said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, oblivious or indifferent to the carnage. He stood up and kissed my forehead. It felt like a brand. "You have to attend. Family Business. After the Gala, the driver will take you to the country."

"I understand," I said.

He left. Jayden smirked at me over the rim of her coffee cup.

I walked to the living room. Our engagement photo was on the mantle. We looked happy in it. Fake happy.

I picked up the frame and dropped it into the trash can.

I went upstairs and packed my bag. Not clothes for the country. I packed cash. I packed my medical records. I packed the fake ID I had bought from a forger in the Lower East Side weeks ago, just in case.

I put on the blue custom gown Cedric had bought me for the Gala. It was the color of the deep ocean, dark and abyssal.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like a queen. A dying queen.

Tonight, I would walk into that Gala on the arm of the Don.

And then, I would vanish into the shadows, leaving Cedric Moon with nothing but his guilt and the snake he chose to keep.

My heart beat a steady, final rhythm against my ribs.

One. Two. Three.

Time to go.

Kacie Oliver POV: I stared at the reflection in the mirror one last time. The woman staring back wasn't the fragile rose Cedric thought he bought. She was a thorn. And tonight, I was going to draw blood.