Chapter 1

Every six months, my mafia don husband loses his memory for fifteen days.

He falls for someone else and ruins my life—only to beg for my forgiveness on his knees when it's over.

My husband is sick.

Almost the entire Underworld of New York knows about it.

After the men of the Lucchese family marry, they lose their memories for fifteen days every six months.

And during these fifteen days, they fall madly in love with other women, turning their wives into the most pathetic laughingstocks.

The first time Dominic lost his memory, he fell for a dirty journalist whore who was trying to leak my family's secrets.

For the sake of his so-called true love, he kidnapped me on the exact day of my family’s multi-million-dollar shipment, ordering his men to break both of my legs.

The shipment was seized by the feds because I wasn't there to clear it, and I was completely blacklisted from the Underworld high council.

Meanwhile, that journalist whore used him to climb straight to the top, becoming one of the most powerful media rats in the city.

But the moment the fifteen days were up, Dominic recovered his memories and literally wept at my feet until he fainted.

Then, he ordered his executioners to chop the journalist into pieces and feed her to the dogs; to this day, her name is scratched off the earth, dead or alive.

The second time he lost his memory, he fell for a low-life maid who washed our clothes.

The maid threw a tantrum, demanding a ring and a divorce.

When I refused to sign, Dominic dragged me out, threw me into a cartel-run brothel to be humiliated, and had his men film it to spread around the five families.

On the fifteenth day, he snapped out of his fugue state right inside the underground courthouse where we were supposed to dissolve our marriage.

The man fell straight to his knees on the concrete, pulling out his blade and stabbing his own thigh to beg for my mercy.

As for that maid, she met the same fate as the journalist whore—sold off to a brutal Juarez cartel camp, and within three days, she was tortured into a broken, breathing corpse.

The most ruthless time was when he fell for my bastard sister.

To prove his loyalty to her, he personally sliced open my stomach at a back-alley underground clinic to rip out my six-month-old unborn heir, nearly leaving both me and the baby dead on the operating table.

Once his mind cleared, Dominic tried to hang himself right in our mansion.

It took the family doctors three days and three nights of emergency surgeries just to barely keep his pathetic ass alive.

And this time, it is his twelfth memory glitch.

Looking at my former best friend Sasha, who has successfully crawled into his bed, I let out a tired, heavy sigh.

“Dominic, if you’re this fucking sick, why don’t you just hurry up and die? I’d rather be a rich widow and inherit the whole goddamn Lucchese Empire.”