Chapter 3

Sasha’s little self-kidnapping performance concludes flawlessly with her "miraculous rescue."

To punish me further for my "crimes," Dominic completely freezes every single one of my black cards and even contacts my family's underground network, forcing them to temporarily suspend my position as the head of our smuggling operations.

My direct supervisor looks at me in the dim office, offering an awkward, sweating smile as he tries to soothe me.

“Elena, look, the Don will get his mind back in fifteen days anyway; you two have survived worse storms over the years.”

“He truly loves you, and everyone in the Five Families knows that.”

Love?

But this kind of "love" that requires me to bleed out every six months is starting to make me feel profoundly exhausted.

My supervisor opens his mouth to say more.

But I simply close my eyes, cutting him off with a blunt, jarring question, “Do you know exactly how Dominic’s parents died?”

“What?”

“During his father’s seventy-eighth glitch, the old Godfather accidentally shot and killed his own wife for the sake of a cheap stripper. Then, the moment his sanity snapped back, he took the stripper in his arms and leaped straight off the top floor of the Empire State Building, leaving nothing but a bloody smear on the pavement.”

I have absolutely no intention of following the same tragic script.

The office falls into a dead, suffocating silence.

I take the suspension notice and walk out.

The moment I step out of the syndicate's headquarters, Sasha’s encrypted messages begin flooding my screen one after another.

Dozens of high-resolution photos pop up.

The absolute King of the New York Underworld, a man who makes hardened killers tremble, is currently on his hands and knees on the carpet, letting that woman ride him like a horse for her own amusement.

There are photos of him washing her feet, and kissing her toes.

The text messages claim that even if Sasha demanded a literal mountain of blood diamonds, he would gladly burn down half the city within an hour just to make his little queen smile.

[Elena, being your friend meant I was always just a pathetic shadow used to make you look better.]

[But everything is different now—the most powerful man in the city belongs to me.]

[I, Sasha, will be stepping right on your neck soon, taking every bit of wealth and power that used to be yours.]

[Are you jealous? Do you hate me? Too bad you can’t do shit about it! Hahaha...]

Looking at those texts filled with pure, arrogant malice, I can practically feel her obnoxious gloating radiating through the glass screen.

I let out a cold, disgusted snort and take a screenshot of every single message.

I upload them directly to the cloud server.

Label: [A Gift For My Ex-Husband: Part Two—Sent in 15 Days!]

I drive back to our main villa to retrieve one specific item.

Before my grandmother, the last true matriarch of our old Italian bloodline, passed away, she handed me our hand-embroidered silk Heritage Crest—the ultimate symbol of our family’s honor and vendetta history.

That silk piece has survived generations of mafia wars.

It is the living proof and the absolute pride of our family’s survival through blood and fire.

Dominic once told me, “Angele, give me something that means the world to you so I can lock it away; only then can my soul rest, knowing you will never abandon me.”

Now, I am completely drained, and I refuse to play a part in this sick game caused by his twisted genetics anymore.

I am taking my grandmother's Crest back, cutting every single tie clean!

But the very second I step through the grand marble foyer, I spot Sasha holding a filthy, stray dog covered in mud and leaking urine.

Her eyes are filled with tears as she reaches out toward Dominic—a man who is severely allergic to dog dander but is forcing himself to stand there and endure it just for her.

“Dom, the poor puppy is so dirty, hurry up and grab that old rag on the wall so I can wipe him down.”

The "old rag" Sasha is pointing her acrylic nail at happens to be my grandmother's hand-woven Heritage Silk, beautifully framed and mounted on the center wall.

My heart drops into a cold, violent abyss.

Before I can even step forward to tear her apart, Dominic moves faster than a bullet.

He ruthlessly smashes the glass frame with his bare fist, rips the priceless silk Crest out, and shoves it into her hands.

His thin lips part, letting out a mocking scoff, “Is Elena fucking brain-dead? Framing a useless piece of rag and hanging it up here just to embarrass the Lucchese name?”

Yet, when he was sane, this exact "useless rag" was the only thing that could anchor his violent soul, guarded like the most sacred treasure in his empire!

“Good boy, let mommy clean you up,” Sasha coos, using the ancient silk that represents my entire lineage to wipe away the dog's filth.

My eyes turn entirely bloodshot, and a primal rage drives me to fly across the room, raising my hand to strike her down.

Except.

I don’t even manage to touch a single hair on Sasha’s head.

Dominic grabs the back of my collar as if I am a piece of infected meat, throwing my body through the air with terrifying force.

My fragile frame crashes heavily against the massive floor-to-ceiling glass window.

The glass shatters into thousands of deadly shards, tearing through my clothes and slicing deep into my skin, causing thick lines of dark blood to gush out instantly.

In that split second.

The man who was just fiercely protecting Sasha, his face filled with rage, completely freezes as his eyes land on the bloody mess on the floor.

His handsome face turns suddenly pale, as if some buried instinct in his twisted mind is trying to scream...