A Throne Without a Memory

My Don husband, just to indulge his little mistress's fantasy of playing Don's wife, pretended to have lost his memory at sea and tried to push me out of the family.

By chance, I overheard his mistress teasing him:

"Can I borrow Don's wife for a few days? And… Can I borrow the Don too?"

My husband, all smiles and indulgence, replied,

"Of course. Both are yours for a few days."

I froze for a moment, then turned away, pretending it did not bother me.

The next day, at the family meeting, he announced that his mistress was then his wife, ordered me out of the family business, and demanded I hand over every ounce of authority I held.

The elders all turned to me, silently hoping I would defy his ridiculous decree.

I said nothing. I handed over the keys and authority without a word.

However, he did not know that our next arms deal was just nine days away, and the other party was Amestia's most powerful mafia, the Romano family. They dealt with no one but me.

"You're free to go, but first, you need to erase every contact related to our business partners and family members from your phone. Those are the family's assets, and you've got no right to take them with you."

No sooner had I walked out of the office than Rosa Lombardi, my husband's darling, blocked my path.

Years of running the family business taught me there was no such policy. She was gunning for me.

I spun around to face my husband, the formidable Don Sebastian Ricci. "Is this what you want as well?"

Sebastian's eyes were ice as he looked at me, his voice just as frigid. "Yes."

Deleting those contacts would devastate the family business, possibly knocking us off our pedestal among the elite Italor families.

He thought he had me pegged, sure I would never leave for real, not when it meant letting the family take a hit.

We were five years into our marriage, a union that weathered enough storms to delay any thoughts of children.

He knew how I felt about the family; it was like my child, and I could not stand to see it hurt.

Day in, day out, I was in the trenches with arms dealers and drug lords, risking my neck to build a fortress for our empire.

Just days ago, at the family council, he had the gall to suggest bumping Rosa up to family Consigliere.

The family hung on Don Ricci's every word, and the elders were all too quick to sing Rosa's praises, ready to rubber-stamp her promotion.

However, I knew better. Rosa was all show and no substance, nowhere near ready to become the family Consigliere.

For the first time, I did not care about saving face for Sebastian. I stood my ground and used my veto.

He knew full well I would not stand for his shenanigans in the family.

That was why he cooked up that whole sea-dive drama, claiming he lost his memory, all to get Rosa in the driver's seat.

To get me to bend, he trotted out the oldest trick in the book.

The company's elders, watching us lock horns, stood their ground and tried to smooth things over: "Take a breath, will you? Don's just under the weather. As his wife, you oughta be his rock, not blocking his every move."

Sebastian's lips twitched into a smirk, but he played it straight. "My wife calls the shots. Cross her in this family, and you'll answer to me."

With that, he slapped his gun down on the table. The elders, taken aback at first, then chuckled and closed in around me. "Elena, Don's still head over heels for you. He's just got a short-circuit in the memory department, mistook someone else for you, that's all," they said.

Their looks, some envious, some ribbing, did not coax a smile from me.

The truth was the complete opposite. Sebastian and I had been through thick and thin over the years, usually as tight as could be. However, whenever trouble brewed, he expected me to back down without a second thought for my feelings. He always pitted me against him, no matter the place or the reason. We had more blow-ups than I could count.

Still, he insisted I was his wife, the family's backbone, his nearest and dearest, and that I should always have had his back, even if we were at odds. At home, we patched things up like nothing had happened. However, with outsiders, once the bridge was burned, there was no rebuilding it.

At first, his words cut deep, leaving me feeling raw and uneasy. However, after hearing them over and over, they started to make a twisted kind of sense.

Today, though, I watched him toss aside all restraint for his Rosa, his moonlit dream, and dive headlong into obsession.

The shock hit me like a slap, freezing me in place. Then, out of nowhere, Rosa shoved me, sending me sprawling to the ground without a chance to brace myself.

"Did I make the mistake of treating you too kindly, Elena? You think you can steal Sebastian from me? He's clearly my man, my Don, and I'm his wife. Spin one more tale about us, and you'll regret it," she spat, standing by Sebastian's side as if I were the homewrecker.

Sebastian just watched, his face a mask of nothingness, as if he could not care less, silently backing up Rosa.

Staring into Sebastian's icy eyes, I scoffed at myself and said, "Alright, I'll delete it right now!"

I pulled out my phone and announced my departure from the family business on Instagram. I was about to shut down my work profile when I heard him say:

"You're one of the old guards in this company. I trust you. You know what matters. Just go."

Sebastian watched me with a poker face as I tapped on my phone, and he realized I was not bluffing, so he spoke up, a hint of panic in his voice.

Rosa piped up then, "Don, doesn't my word mean anything?"

Sebastian, who usually spoiled Rosa rotten, shot her a look that could freeze lava, signaling her to zip it.

He then signaled to a bodyguard, who brought over a check for $100,000.

With a smile that did not quite reach his eyes, Sebastian handed me the check, making a promise. "Elena, you may have stepped away from the family business, but your dedication hasn't gone unnoticed. You'll get what's rightfully yours, just give me a little time."