The arguments over Tess escalated. When I found the lipstick in his car, Dante dismissed it. "She swore an oath to the family. Stop being paranoid."

He kept me trapped in this house while flaunting her in public.

Loneliness turned me neurotic. I started checking his backup phone while he showered, questioning his whereabouts every hour.

The breaking point came when Dante was away handling a territorial dispute. I hadn't heard from him in two days. Panicked, I texted him, pleading for him to tell me he was alive.

An hour later, the phone vibrated. It was a voice message from Dante’s phone—but it wasn't him.

I pressed play with trembling fingers and heard Tess’s voice:

"You’re too controlling. Stop throwing tantrums and stay out of family business. The Boss is fine."

My vision blurred with heat, and the air in my lungs seemed to vanish. Before I could stop myself, I fired off a string of vitriolic insults and sent them.

When Dante came home, he didn't greet me. He looked at me with chilling disappointment, accusing me of damaging Tess’s reputation among the Capos. He ignored her insubordination in answering his private phone.

At that moment, months of torture finally broke me. My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the hardwood floor in front of him.

I woke up hours later surrounded by the cold white walls of a basement clinic. The family doctor told me: I was pregnant.

I slowly laid a trembling hand on my belly. A heartbreaking truth dawned on me: I was bringing a child into a marriage that existed only in name.

Dante didn't return to the clinic until the next morning. He didn't explain, and I didn't ask.

Later, I learned from the guards that Tess had been hospitalized for three days following a minor skirmish. The guard said the Don visited her in the medical wing every day.

Later that week, while Dante was showering, his encrypted phone on the marble counter lit up.

I stared at the screen, reading the notifications—countless messages from her, thanking him for staying by her bedside every day, the words dripping with sickening intimacy.

Five months of agony blurred by in a haze of resentment. I was six months pregnant, my belly showing, but the distance between us was wider than the table that separated us.

One night, we sat at the dining table eating in silence.

"As Godfather, it would have been inappropriate not to check on her when she was hurt," he finally said.

I raised my fork to my mouth and then set it down. "I understand." I wiped my mouth with a napkin. "You don’t have to worry. I won’t cause her any trouble."

I stood up from the table and asked if he needed anything before I went upstairs.

Dante gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white. "Sienna, enough. How much longer are you going to treat me like this?" He stood up, his chair crashing to the floor. "You’ve changed."

"Tell me, am I not supposed to hold you accountable?"

Dante went silent, standing there staring at me as if I’d punched him.

I turned and walked up the stairs. With every step, I relived the day I lost everything.

I was six months pregnant. I had tripped at the very top step, tumbling down to the hard marble floor below.

I lay in a growing pool of blood, frantically calling Dante’s name.

He picked up the phone and told me coldly that he was busy. He hung up on me because Tess needed a ride home after a meeting.

By the time the family doctor arrived, the heir to the Syndicate was gone.

The doctor sat by my bed and told me quietly: I would never be able to get pregnant again.

The moment the doctor delivered the news, Dante fell to his knees by my hospital bed. The ruthless mob boss collapsed, burying his face in my hands, his broad shoulders shaking with sobs. He begged for my forgiveness for two straight days.

I didn't push him away, but I didn't comfort him either. I just stared at the white ceiling and let him cry.

When I returned to the estate after being discharged, Dante was a different man. He made a grand show of cutting off all non-essential contact with Tess, intentionally leaving his encrypted phone unlocked on the kitchen counter, and reporting his whereabouts to me like a subordinate before leaving the house.

I looked at those black devices and pushed them back toward him. "I’m too tired to play this anymore." I turned and locked myself in the guest room.

His repentance was nothing more than a performance.

I had already bought a one-way ticket to a city far away.

On the day I packed my last bag, I looked around our shared walk-in closet.

I packed only a canvas duffel bag containing my ID, untraceable cash, and a few simple clothes.

I left behind all the expensive gowns, the custom heels, the millions of dollars in diamonds. I discarded every relic of the extravagant life I’d lived as the Godfather’s wife.

As I stood there silently, Dante was addressing the Commission, celebrating a Syndicate victory. The meeting was being broadcast live through the secure tablet in my room.

I stared blankly at the screen as an elderly Capo asked him the secret of his success. Dante stood at the head of the mahogany table, looking directly into the camera:

"I owe everything I am to my wife, Sienna."

The boardroom erupted in applause. My gaze involuntarily fell on Tess, standing in the shadows of the background. As the men cheered for me, she forced a stiff, pained smile.

I turned off the tablet.

The Mafia’s private courier service was already waiting. I handed him the divorce papers.

"And this." I took off the cheap wedding ring.

"Understood, ma'am. It will be delivered this afternoon," the courier confirmed and left.

I took a taxi to the airport and printed my boarding pass.

I stood at the gate, watching the planes pierce the overcast sky.

Seconds before final boarding, the phone in my pocket vibrated. Caller ID: Dante.

I pressed the green button and held it to my ear. Before Dante could speak, I heard Tess’s cheerful, breathless voice in the background:

"Boss, you were amazing today! Let's go celebrate... just the two of us."

I pulled the phone away from my ear, hit the red button, and handed my ticket to the gate agent.

Let it all end here, Dante.