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.

Dante’s POV

I instinctively covered the receiver. The thought of Sienna hearing Tess’s voice made my blood run cold.

I looked at Tess and gave a reluctant nod. "Fine, we’ll have a drink."

Tess let out a small cheer of victory and grabbed my arm. I looked down at my phone screen—the call had been disconnected.

Staring at the blank screen, I felt a suffocating pressure in my chest.

An hour later, I returned to Syndicate HQ and locked myself in my private office. Tess burst in, clutching a thick manila envelope.

"Boss, an urgent package sent directly from the Madam."

I reached for the envelope. As my fingers brushed the thick paper, a cold premonition washed over me. Sienna had never sent anything to headquarters before.

I tore the seal with my thumb, my hand trembling as I pulled out a stack of crisp white documents. My vision began to blur at the edges. I had to lean my full weight against the desk to keep my legs from giving out.

The only sound in the room was the rushing of blood in my ears.

"Boss... what does she mean?" Tess stammered. "Is she really asking for a divorce?"

I didn't hear her. I stared at the bold black font at the top of the page: Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.

A total violation of Omertà, a violation of the sacred laws of the family. No one leaves the Syndicate, and no one leaves the Godfather.

But the evidence was right there, signed in Sienna’s elegant hand at the bottom of the page.

I tipped the envelope upside down over the desk. A small object fell out, hitting the mahogany with a sharp metallic clink.

It was her wedding ring—a plain steel band.

I stared at that cheap ring, my vision blurring.

I remembered the day we stood in that dim little chapel, back when I was just a low-level enforcer. Sienna had stolen her family’s marriage registry papers just to marry me.

She had specifically picked out the cheapest ring in the display case and then looked up at me with a smile:

"When you run this city, you can buy me a better one."

A sudden heat burned my eyes.

I remembered the blood oath I had sworn to protect and cherish her for the rest of my life.

And yet, I hadn't even bought her a better ring.

I forgot... I just, forgot.