The wind felt sharp against my skin as I sat on the balcony, clutching the cold railing with both hands. It did nothing to calm the storm inside me. Ever since the ambush, my world had been spinning out of control, and Marco—Marco hadn’t noticed a damn thing.

I could hear his voice filtering through the open doors behind me, barking orders over the phone. Mafia business. That was always his priority, always the center of his world. Not me. Not us. Not the baby I had lost while he was off saving Audrey.

I gripped the railing tighter, feeling the sting of metal bite into my palms. No one knew about the baby. Not Marco, not his crew, not even Audrey. I had carried that secret with me for weeks, hoping to find the right time to tell him. But that time never came. And now it never would.

I glanced over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of him pacing the living room, his suit jacket slung carelessly over a chair. He didn’t even look like he’d been through hell. Meanwhile, I felt like I was drowning, my heart breaking a little more every day. The emptiness inside me was unbearable.

“Isabelle!” Marco’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He was standing at the door now, staring at me with that intense look of his, like he expected me to fall into line at a moment’s notice.

I didn’t move.

“Come inside. You’ve been out here for hours.” His tone was softer now, but it didn’t reach me. It couldn’t.

“I’m fine,” I replied, not bothering to look at him. The cold wind biting at my skin was easier to endure than the hollow ache in my chest.

He stepped closer, and I felt the tension roll off him. “You’ve barely spoken to me since the ambush. What’s going on?”

I laughed softly, a bitter sound I barely recognized. “What’s going on? You’re seriously asking me that?”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Yes. Why the hell are you acting like this?”

“Why am I acting like this? Maybe because I was there, Marco. I was in that car too, watching everything unfold. And where were you? Oh, right, you were with her.”

His jaw clenched, defensive. “I was protecting her. She was vulnerable—”

“I was vulnerable!” I cut him off, my voice sharp. “I needed you, and you weren’t there. Do you have any idea what that felt like? To be left behind while you rushed to her side?”

He opened his mouth to say something, but I wasn’t finished.

“Every single time, Marco,” I continued, my voice rising. “Every single time, you choose her. You don’t even realize it, but everyone else does. The men, the people in the group, they pity me! I’m the one who’s supposed to be at your side, not her. But you make me feel like I’m nothing, like I’m invisible.”

His face hardened, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, maybe. Or was it annoyance? I didn’t care anymore.

“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” he said, his voice quieter now, trying to control the situation like he always did. “Audrey is important to the business. That’s all.”

“And what am I, Marco? A decoration? Someone you can toss aside whenever it’s convenient?”

His silence spoke volumes.

“Marco, I lost something that night,” my voice barely above a whisper. “Do you even know that?”

“What are you saying?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Without another word, I turned and walked away from him, leaving the room and heading for the phone in the hallway. My mind was made up. I couldn’t stay here anymore. I couldn’t keep pretending that things would get better, that Marco would ever truly see me again.

I dialed the number of Enzo, a trusted member of my father’s mafia group. I had left my hometown behind when our mafia was decimated, believing that I could carve out a better life for myself here. But I was wrong.

It was time to return.

“It’s me, Enzo,” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me. “I’m going home now.”

The decision to leave had crept up slowly, like shadows gathering in a room you didn’t realize was getting darker until it was too late. It wasn’t one event or one betrayal that pushed me to this point. It was a collection of moments—each one more painful than the last—that I could no longer ignore.

At first, I thought Audrey was just another part of the business. She was new, inexperienced, and Marco, as always, was patient with her, training her. He even told me that she reminded him of himself when he was younger. “She’ll learn fast,” he said one evening, his eyes gleaming with a pride I hadn’t seen in a long time. I smiled and told myself it was normal, that it didn’t mean anything.

But then things started to shift. Dinners missed, conversations that turned cold, and whispers behind closed doors. The way Audrey looked at him was different, and I saw how his gaze lingered on her a little too long. It wasn’t something I could put my finger on at first, but I felt it—like something breaking inside me, slowly but steadily.

I waited, hoping that it would pass. I convinced myself that Marco and I were stronger than this, that his loyalty was with me, not her. After all, we’d been through so much together. But that hope was just another lie I told myself, one of many over the years.

It wasn’t until the night of the ambush that everything became painfully clear. The attack had been quick, chaotic. I barely had time to react before the bullets started flying. I was cornered, my heart pounding in my chest as the gunfire rang out. In the midst of the chaos, I searched for Marco. He was supposed to have my back. That’s what we did—we protected each other.

But when I found him, he wasn’t looking for me. He was with her, pulling Audrey to safety. And in that split second, as I watched him choose her, something in me shattered beyond repair. It wasn’t about the mafia, the business, or even the danger we faced. It was about us—or rather, the lack of us. He had made his choice long before that night, and I had been too blind to see it.

That realization had stayed with me, growing louder in my mind until I couldn’t silence it anymore. Now, as I stood in our shared bedroom, packing my things, I knew I couldn’t keep pretending. The room felt so empty, though it was filled with memories of a life that once held promise. I opened the closet and reached for my suitcase, pulling it out and setting it on the bed.

I didn’t need much. Just enough to leave and not look back. As I folded my clothes, my eyes landed on something small and delicate at the foot of the bed—a piece of lingerie. Not mine. I had found it weeks ago, tucked under the edge of the mattress. I had tried to ignore it then, to tell myself it was nothing. But now, it was a symbol of everything that had gone wrong.

I picked it up and tossed it onto the bed, a silent, damning testament to the lies I had allowed to fill my life. I wasn’t angry anymore. I was just tired.

Marco was away again—another trip with Audrey, though we both knew it wasn’t business. They’d left together, without a second thought about me. But this time, when he came back, I wouldn’t be here.

I walked to the desk by the window, my hands trembling slightly as I reached for a pen and a piece of paper. What do you even say in a moment like this? How do you explain years of betrayal in a few sentences?

I took a breath and began to write.

“Marco,” I started, “I’ve tried to ignore what’s been happening for so long. I’ve tried to believe that we could fix things, that you would see me again. But you haven’t. You’ve chosen Audrey time and time again, and I’m done pretending I don’t see it. I can’t live like this anymore, waiting for you to remember me. I deserve better.”

The words felt final, but right. I folded the note and placed it on the bed beside the lingerie. Let him figure it out when he got home.

With my suitcase in hand, I walked out of the bedroom, the door clicking softly behind me. I didn’t feel regret or guilt—just the weight of a decision that should have been made a long time ago.

It was time to leave, and this time, there would be no coming back.