The Past Is a Wound That Won't Heal Novel Cover

The Past Is a Wound That Won't Heal

8.6 / 10.0
In the mafia romance The Past Is a Wound That Won't Heal, Isabella’s billionaire husband Ricardo claims his mistress is pregnant because Isabella is infertile. He doesn't know they are already divorced, he is the sterile one, and she is expecting triplets with another man.
The Past Is a Wound That Won't Heal Summary
On their third anniversary, billionaire Ricardo Gambino arrives at his remote estate with a plan: his mistress is pregnant, and he wants his 'infertile' wife, Isabella, to raise the child. He expects gratitude, unaware that they are already divorced and he is the one who cannot conceive. As Ricardo gloats, Isabella receives a message confirming she is expecting triplets with a powerful new partner who intends to marry her in three days.
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The Past Is a Wound That Won't Heal Chapter 1

On our third year wedding anniversary, Ricardo Gambino finds me in the estate located far beyond the city's boundaries.

As he clutches a pregnancy report, he finds it difficult to suppress the smile on his face.

"I have good news for you, Isabella!" Ricardo exclaims excitedly. "Lucia is pregnant! It so happens that you're infertile, we'll have her give birth to the baby, and you can raise them! After that, I'll make sure to send Lucia away. You, on the other hand, shall remain as my wife!"

Ricardo's tone is starting to drift. He sounds like he's done something amazing for me and wants me to compliment him.

But I merely look at him as though he were a jester.

What Ricardo doesn't know is that he's the infertile one. Also, we've already gotten divorced from each other.

At that moment, I receive a new text on my phone. Then, I see a photo of an ultrasound report regarding the first trimester of a pregnancy.

"Isabella, we're having triplets."

The next text pops up immediately. "I shall marry you in three days."

Isabella's POV

When I didn't respond, Ricardo frowned at me.

"Isabella, did you hear what I said?"

I jerked my head up, the sunlight sharp in my eyes.

The man in front of me—Ricardo Gambino—was the man I had "loved" for 11 years. Staring at the impossibly familiar face, memories came flooding back.

I remembered the day he knelt on one knee and proposed to me, his eyes full of love and affection.

I remembered him at our wedding, eyes red, swearing on the honor of the Gambino Famiglia that he would love me for the rest of his life.

But somewhere along the way, he started staying out all night. He always brushed me off by saying he was busy with Famiglia matters, yet he took another woman with him to all kinds of banquets, leaving me sitting alone on the balcony of the family estate until dawn.

He believed that he was continuing the Gambino bloodline by letting Lucia bear his child, while also preserving the dignity of his "legitimate but infertile wife". What he didn't know was that this so-called goodwill actually cut deeper than any knife ever could.

Shaking off my thoughts, I stood and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Ricardo," I started, my tone calm. "We're divorced. I'm no longer Mrs. Gambino."

He froze.

As I turned to leave, my eyes caught the wedding ring on his finger. I had personally designed the ring back then. It was engraved with the family crest, and only this single pair existed in all of Slatilli.

"Also," I added, pointing at his hand with a small smile. "I've already thrown my ring away. You should take yours off too."

Ricardo stared at me wide-eyed, his face darkening. After confirming that I really wasn't wearing the ring, his gaze hardened even more. But I didn't care in the slightest.

"The divorce papers were signed a month ago. They're in the study. You can go look. I left empty-handed. I didn't touch a penny of the Gambino fortune.

"But the black opal pendant is my mother's heirloom. I left it at an antique restoration shop for maintenance. I'll collect it myself later."

I was about to head inside when Ricardo blocked me. I thought he was going to hysterically demand to know why I wanted a divorce, but instead, he let out a short, incredulous laugh.

"Stop messing around, Isabella. You can't joke about something like this."

I stared at him, dead serious. "I'm not joking. We really are divorced."

When he saw my stern expression, a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, as if he had been holding it in for a long time.

"Alright, Isabella. Even jokes have limits. Without the Gambino Famiglia's protection, you wouldn't be able to survive past three days in Slatilli. You have no other Famiglia to rely on anymore. Who else would take care of you?

"Besides, you've been married to me for three years, and you've long been used to living in comfort. If you leave empty-handed, you won't even be able to buy a slice of bread. And don't tell me you're going back to being a designer. Without the Gambino name, your designs are worthless."

He thought he knew me. He was convinced I couldn't survive without the Gambino Famiglia.

After he finished, he ruffled my hair and said gently, "When you're done with your tantrum, head back to the estate. I have some Famiglia business to take care of over the next few days. I'm off."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and left.

I watched his departing figure and shook my head.

"Famiglia business" was just his excuse to visit his old lover, Lucia Valentori. He thought I was infertile, so he openly kept a mistress. What he didn't know was that there was nothing wrong with me. The one who was truly incapable of giving the Gambino Famiglia an heir… was him.

My phone vibrated. I answered.

"Signora, we confirmed that your medical report from back then was indeed tampered with. The infertility diagnosis was forged.

"We've already identified the culprit, and we'll explain everything in detail when you arrive…"

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The Past Is a Wound That Won't Heal of Contents

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4
Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10
Ch. 11
all

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