I had been married to Alexander for three years. Everyone feared his ruthlessness, but he had always been incredibly gentle with me.

But ever since Elena took a bullet for him during a shootout six months ago, everything changed.

He always said she got hurt saving him, so I had to be accommodating.

At the family’s most prestigious gala, my husband—the Don, Alexander—arrived with his secretary, Elena, on his arm.

Pinned to her chest was the ruby brooch that symbolized the position of the Donna of the family.

"Elena took a bullet for me. She liked the brooch, so I let her borrow it for a while. Regardless, you are the only donna here. Try to show some class."

I didn't argue with him.

I just removed my wedding ring and pulled out the divorce papers: "Since she likes it so much, she can have it. Including this seat next to you. I'm giving that up, too."

Alexander signed without hesitation, a cold smile on his face. "What kind of manipulative trick are you playing now? You're an orphan, separated from your family, you won't survive three days in Sicily. I'll wait for you to come back begging me."

I took out an encrypted satellite phone I hadn't used in three years.

Alexander didn't know that I was actually the youngest daughter of the oldest Mafia family in Europe.

But my family and Alexander’s had always been enemies. To marry him, I had changed my name and even severed ties with my father and brothers.

The call connected. I took a deep breath and whispered, "Papa, I regret it. Send someone to pick me up in two weeks."

At the family’s most prestigious gala, my husband—the Don, Alexander—arrived with his secretary, Elena, on his arm.

Pinned to her chest was the ruby brooch that symbolized the position of the donna, the mistress of the family.

Before I could even speak, Alexander glanced at me with casual indifference. "Ivy, don't be so petty."

He wiped the corner of his mouth elegantly with a napkin, his tone suggesting this was entirely reasonable.

"Elena took a bullet for me. She liked the brooch, so I let her borrow it for a while. Regardless, you are the only donna here. Try to show some class."

Elena touched the brooch with a coy smile, her eyes provoking me. "Yes, Ivy. The Don said the red suits me better. It’s just a brooch; surely you don't mind?"

Alexander looked at her with indulgence, then turned to me with a promise.

"If you're upset, I’ll bid on a bigger diamond for you at the auction next week. Just be a good girl and don't make a scene in front of the family."

I looked at his feigned affection and felt nothing but coldness.

I had been married to Alexander for three years. Everyone feared his ruthlessness, but he had always been incredibly gentle with me.

But ever since Elena took a bullet for him during a shootout six months ago, everything changed.

It started with care born of guilt, but it evolved into bottomless indulgence.

Even on our wedding anniversary, during a candlelight dinner, one call from Elena crying about pain in her wound made Alexander abandon the half-cut cake without hesitation. He left me alone with a table full of cold food until dawn.

Last month, when I had a fever of 102 degrees and was shivering under the covers, I asked him for a glass of water. Just then, Elena called, claiming the thunder terrified her.

Alexander put on his coat without a word, dropping a "take your medicine" before rushing out into the storm.

He always said she got hurt saving him, so I had to be accommodating.

I put down my knife and fork. "Since she likes it so much, she can have it."

I slid my wedding ring off my ring finger. Along with a divorce agreement I had prepared long ago, I slid them down the long table until they stopped in front of Alexander.

"Including this seat next to you. I’m giving that up, too."

The smile on Alexander’s face froze. His deep blue eyes darkened instantly, radiating a dangerous chill. "Ivy, this isn't funny. Are you threatening me in front of the Capi?"

I looked at him calmly. "I'm not joking. Sign it, Alexander."

He stared at me intensely, trying to find any sign that I was playing hard to get.

After a long silence, he scoffed, grabbed a fountain pen, and signed his name on the agreement.

"Fine. If you want to play the runaway wife, go ahead."

He slammed the document onto the table, his eyes full of disdain. "You are just an orphan. Without the protection of our Family, you won't last three days in Sicily. I’ll give you a week to regret this foolish stunt. Don't come crawling back to me crying."

In his eyes, I was just an accessory that couldn't survive without him.

I took the document and stood up to leave without saying a word.

Alexander didn't even look back at me. He continued to chat and laugh with Elena, convinced I was just throwing a tantrum.

Back at the estate, I took out an encrypted satellite phone I hadn't used in three years.

Alexander didn't know that I wasn't an orphan. I was the youngest daughter of the oldest Mafia family in Europe.

But my family and Alexander’s had always been enemies. To marry him, I had changed my name and even severed ties with my father and brothers.

The call connected. I took a deep breath and whispered, "Papa, I regret it. Send someone to pick me up in two weeks."

After hanging up, I didn't hesitate. I started packing immediately. Since I had decided to leave, I wouldn't leave anything behind.

The next morning, Alexander brought Elena back to the estate and went straight to the private underground armory.

"I'm taking Elena to the range. She needs a weapon for self-defense." Alexander saw me packing and offered a careless explanation, his tone still arrogant. "Still at it? Where exactly do you think you're moving to?"

I ignored him and continued folding my clothes into the suitcase.

Elena, however, walked straight to the display cabinet and picked up a custom gold Beretta—Alexander’s birthday gift to me last year. I used to practice shooting with it.

"Wow, this gun is gorgeous." Elena played with the weapon, the muzzle swaying intentionally past my forehead, a fake smile plastered on her face. "Oops, sorry, Ivy. My hand slipped. Since the Don is teaching me how to shoot, surely I can borrow this one for a bit?"

Looking at the black muzzle pointed at me, I didn't get angry; instead, I smiled.

In the next second, I clamped down on her wrist, executed a standard disarming maneuver to break her grip, snatched the pistol, and pressed it against her forehead.

My movements were fluid and shockingly fast.

Elena screamed, immediately switching to a terrified expression, and threw herself at Alexander, trembling. "Don! Save me! Ivy is trying to kill me!"

Alexander’s face changed dramatically. He grabbed my wrist and forcibly took the gun.

He shielded the trembling Elena behind him and glared at me. "Ivy! Are you insane? she was just joking with you, and you actually wanted to hurt her? I know you're jealous, but there’s a limit!"

I rubbed my aching wrist and looked at him coldly. "A gun is not a toy. Since she doesn't know how to hold it, I taught her a lesson."

Alexander’s eyes were sinister; he clearly thought I was being unreasonable.

He turned to a discard bin in the corner, dug out a rusty revolver, and tossed it at my feet.

"Since you like playing with guns so much, have this one."

It was a Smith & Wesson M10.

I froze.

Two years ago, I was kidnapped by a rival family. They had pointed this exact model of revolver at my head and forced me to play Russian Roulette.

That was the nightmare of my life. Alexander knew this. He had sworn to protect me and never let me see a gun like that again.

But now, to comfort his frightened mistress, he threw my nightmare at my feet.

"Stop making a scene and let Elena have the gold one," he said impatiently. "She saved my life. She deserves the best."

I looked at the revolver on the ground, and the last spark of affection in my heart was completely extinguished.

I bent down and picked up the gun.

Alexander thought I had compromised. He was about to speak when I turned and walked to the fireplace, tossing the gun straight into the roaring flames.

"Ivy!" Alexander was furious. It wasn't just a gun; I had challenged his authority as the Don. "You burned my goodwill over a stranger? I'll give you one more chance. Pick it up!"

The firelight from the hearth illuminated my calm face. I looked at Alexander and enunciated every word clearly:

"I don't pick up trash. Just like I don't recycle spoiled feelings."

"Alexander, you disgust me."

This was probably the first time I had ever used such words to describe him.

Alexander laughed out of anger, a storm brewing in his blue eyes. "Good. Very good. Ivy, since you want to be so tough, don't blame me for being ruthless."

"I gave you an out, and you didn't take it. Don't come begging when you hit a dead end."

With that, he turned and stormed out of the armory without sparing me another glance.

Elena didn't follow him immediately.

She stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at me with a sneer. Her pitiful facade vanished, replaced by a twisted look of triumph.

"Ivy, you really don't know your place." She stroked the gold gun Alexander had just given her. "So what if you're the rightful wife? We all know whose bed the Don sleeps in at night."

"How can a washed-up woman like you compete with me?"

I looked at her coldly. "You think a secretary who climbed the ladder by taking a bullet can last forever?"

Elena’s expression shifted, and then she revealed a bizarre smile.

"Forever is all I need."

Then, she leaned back and threw herself down the stairs!

"Ah—! Help! Don!!"

A blood-curdling scream echoed through the villa.

Alexander, who had just reached the door, heard the noise and rushed back like a madman.

He saw Elena lying at the bottom of the stairs, her head bleeding, and his entire body trembled.

"Elena!" He scooped her up and looked up at me standing at the top of the stairs, his eyes as cold as if he were looking at a corpse.

"Ivy... how could you be this vicious?"

"Just because of jealousy, you tried to kill the woman who saved my life?!"

I stood high above, watching this clumsy performance, feeling nothing but the absurdity of it all.

"I didn't push her," I said indifferently.

But in his eyes, my calmness was just unrepentant arrogance.

Elena weakly grabbed his collar, weeping beautifully. "Don't blame Ivy... I lost my footing... Don, please don't fight with Ivy because of me..."

She twisted the knife perfectly.

The disappointment in Alexander's eyes turned into utter loathing.

"Shut up. Don't beg for her."

He carried Elena in his arms. As he passed me, he coldly announced:

"My date for the annual Mafia Ball tonight will be Elena."

"Since you can't be a proper donna, I'll find someone who can."

With that, he walked away with the victor in his arms, never looking back.

I stood there, listening to the engine fade away, the final ripple in my heart settling into dead silence.

It didn't matter, Alexander.

After all, this was the last time I would ever watch you walk away.

After Alexander left with Elena, he vanished for a full week.

For that entire week, the rumor mill in Sicily’s underworld was buzzing. They said the Don had taken his beloved new mistress to the high seas for the annual yacht party, and that she would soon be the new donna.

My phone kept buzzing with private photos sent by Elena.

The first was of her sunbathing on the deck of a luxury yacht, wearing a barely-there bikini. The caption read: [The Don says only the ocean blue matches my eyes.]

The second was a photo of a man’s hand applying ointment to her inner thigh. The pinky ring, symbolizing the Don’s absolute power, stung my eyes.

The caption read: [I bumped into something, and the Don insisted on applying the medicine himself. He’s so nervous about me.]

I looked at the photos and felt no heartbreak, only a dead, ashen numbness.

I had finished packing. All that was left was to deliver the documents for the transfer of the family's core power and get them signed. After that, I would have no ties to this family.

I tracked the yacht to its dock and drove straight there.

The bodyguards on the deck recognized me and didn't dare stop me. Holding the documents, I walked straight to the main cabin and pushed open the slightly ajar door.

Inside, Elena, wearing that skimpy bikini, was straddling Alexander’s lap, her arms wrapped around his neck in an incredibly suggestive pose.

Hearing the door open, Elena screamed, scrambled off him in a panic, and grabbed a shirt to cover her body, her face flushing red as she explained:

"Ivy! Don't... don't misunderstand! The Don is injured. I... I was just helping him dress the wound on his chest!"

Alexander frowned. He hadn't even bothered to push Elena away.

He looked up at me, his eyes showing the annoyance of being interrupted. "Aren't you in the middle of a divorce tantrum? Why did you chase me all the way to the boat?"

I let out a cold laugh and threw the file onto the table. "What? If I didn't come, how would I know that treating the Don’s wound requires a bikini?"

Elena hid behind Alexander, biting her lip aggrievedly. "Ivy, how can you say that... I was just trying to help..."

Alexander’s face darkened. He stood up abruptly, shielding Elena behind him, and interrupted me impatiently:

"Ivy, enough! How long are you going to keep this up?"

He lit a cigar. Through the swirling smoke, his expression was indifferent and entitled.

"Look at yourself right now. You’re acting like a shrew. In my position, what Godfather doesn't have a few women on the side? It’s just physical; why do you care so much?"

He took a step closer, looking down at me with charitable arrogance.

"No matter who I play with outside, you will always be my only donna. That was the glory you wanted most, wasn't it? Is that not enough?"

I looked at the man I had loved for years and suddenly felt he was a complete stranger.

"Glory?" I repeated softly, then laughed mockingly. "Alexander, I don't want that glory anymore."

"This is the division of assets and the transfer of power. Sign it. Once you sign, I’ll get the hell out and stop disturbing you two while you 'treat wounds'."

Alexander’s hand paused on his cigar, a flash of irritation in his eyes. "Fine. Great. Since you want to play hardball, I'll play along."

He didn't even look at the s of the document and signed his name directly.

"Take your things and get out. But I bet you won't last three days before you come crying and begging me to let you back."

I left the marina with the freshly signed power transfer documents and returned to the estate to pack my final belongings.

I had lived in this house for three years, yet the things that truly belonged to me were pitifully few.

I took only a few old clothes and a photo album. I didn't touch a single piece of jewelry.

Just as I snapped the suitcase shut, the bedroom door was kicked open.

Alexander stormed in, his face twisted with rage. He crumbled a piece of paper in his hand and smashed it into my face.

"Ivy! What the hell did you do to Elena?!"

The sharp edge of the paper sliced across my cheek, leaving a stinging pain.

I looked down. It was a handwritten letter from Elena:

[ Don, I’m leaving. Ivy warned me that if I don't disappear, she’ll kill my parents. I don't want to put you in a difficult position, and I don't want my parents to die... Please take care of yourself. Love, Elena. ]

After reading it, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. "You actually believe this clumsy lie?"

Alexander grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall, his eyes bloodshot.

"A lie? She was willing to die for me; what reason does she have to lie to me? But you, Ivy—how did I never realize you were this venomous?"

"You know she has no one to rely on. Without the Family's protection, she’s dead meat! You are forcing her to her death!"

I didn't bother to explain. I squeezed a few words out of my constricted throat: "Whether she lives or dies is none of my damn business."

"You—!"

Alexander tightened his grip. Just then, the phone in his pocket began to vibrate violently.

He let go of me and answered the call.

From the other end came Elena’s bloodcurdling screams and the sound of gunshots.

"Don! Help me! There are so many hitmen... it’s Ivy’s people! They said they’re going to kill me... Ah! My leg!"

The call cut off abruptly.

Alexander’s face went deadly pale, then transformed into a monstrous rage.

He stared at me, his eyes radiating a chilling murderous intent.

"Did you leak her location?"

"Ivy, you’ve crossed the line. If she dies, I will make you wish you were never born."

With that, he rushed out like a hurricane.

I slumped to the floor, touching the finger marks on my neck, laughing until tears came out.

Alexander, you are incurably stupid.

If I really wanted to kill her, she wouldn't have had the chance to make a phone call.

My family never leaves witnesses.