The Mafia Wife He Never Knew Was Dying

"It was."

"I know you hate betrayal more than anything. I did it on purpose."

"Valerie, do you know what my biggest regret is?"

"It's surviving that shootout. I should have been fucking killed right then and there!"

He spat out every word, a deep, abiding hatred etched into his features.

He shot me a look of pure disgust, then stepped back to call for the family doctor to bandage Sandy.

I slid down the wall to the floor.

My heart felt as if it had been split open with an axe.

Amid the searing pain, I finally realized that maybe I had been wrong ten years ago.

My self-righteous attempt to protect him hadn't been a kindness. It had been a slow-acting poison.

Ten years later, that poison had festered. And now, neither of us could escape it.

"Perez, the truth is, ten years ago I…"

Lying on the floor, I forced the words out, swallowing the blood that filled my throat.

The next second, a woman's delicate, frightened voice interrupted me.

"Perez, my head hurts so much!"

"Perez, come look at it!"

Sandy's voice cut through my attempt.

Perez walked over to her. As he passed me, he let out a scornful laugh.

"Valerie, were you about to say you had some secret reason for what you did?"

"You think I'll believe you?"

"Or let me put it this way: can my shattered leg grow back?"

His cold, mocking words struck my soul like a sledgehammer.

I bit my lip hard, my gaze falling to the unnatural gait of his left leg. All the strength drained from my body.

I said nothing more and slowly pushed myself up to return to my bedroom.

But Perez's voice, laced with scorn, stopped me.

"Valerie, you taught me that when you do something wrong, you have to be punished."

"This time, how do you plan to apologize?"

"With my death," I answered, my voice steady as I placed my fingers on the doorknob.

I noticed that my once nimble and strong fingers…

Were now as brittle and dry as kindling.

"Valerie, what did you say?!"

My arm was gripped in a vice, Perez's voice trembling with a mix of rage and something I couldn't name.

"Death?"

"You think you can escape your guilt by dying?"

"Let me tell you, that's impossible!"

"In this world, if I don't let you die, you don't get to die!"

Perez spoke through gritted teeth, his eyes blazing with fury.

I didn't say a word, simply enduring the crushing pressure of his grip.

People get sick. People die. Did he really think he could stop that?

"Perez, I remember hearing you were distracted during a shootout, chasing after her, and that's how you wrecked your leg."

"So, how about we make Valerie jump from the third-floor balcony?"

"There's a pool below. It won't be a big deal."

After a few seconds of tense silence, Sandy, her wound now bandaged, walked over with hatred in her eyes.

She tugged gently at Perez's sleeve, cooing.

"Perez, just say yes!"

"Look what she did to my head! She has to give me an apology!"

"Besides, my art exhibition is still missing a centerpiece for my 'Fallen Angel' collection!"

The pressure of Perez's grip on my arm tightened, and the hatred roiling in his eyes intensified.