Rocco Falcone, who is the Falcone family's Don and my so-called husband, hangs up on me for what feels like the 99th time. Having been diagnosed with leukemia, I haul my ravaged body into the family lawyer's office.

"I'm here to file for a divorce," I said.

…

When Rocco hears about it, he barges in with my family ten minutes later.

The moment he enters, he slaps me. "Did you use the emergency line just to ruin Sofia's big night? Are you out of your mind?"

Lily Marone, my mom, snatches the diagnosis right out of my hand and skims through it. She chuckles dismissively. "Did you fake being sick just to get attention? How many lies have you told since you were a kid, Claire?"

Sofia Moretti holds Rocco's arm with tears in her eyes. "Forgive me, Claire. I shouldn't have taken the position. Please stop hurting yourself and Rocco."

I wipe the blood from my mouth and turn back to the lawyer. "I have no family left. Please hurry with the divorce paperwork. I need it settled before my cremation in three days."

It was the last time I ever set foot in the Falcone family's law firm. I could feel the cold marble grinding under my feet, and every step sent a shooting pain through my body.

My leukemia was so far gone that I could barely walk, and even breathing was a struggle. "I would like to file for a divorce from Don Falcone."

The lawyer in his fancy suit looked me over with pity in his eyes. "Did you come alone? That isn't how things are usually done—"

It was probably how sickly and thin I appeared that made him speak so gently.

After all those years of marriage, Rocco Falcone never even gave me a proper wedding to make it official. He rarely brought me along to important family events.

That was why most people in the Falcone family had no clue I was married to the Don.

I calmly cut him off. "It doesn't matter. I'm already dying. I don't need them."

The words were barely out of my mouth when the door slammed open. Rocco yelled, "What the hell are you doing, Claire?"

I turned and found his eyes blazing with anger. Sofia Moretti—my younger sister—came in right after him, her signature phony grin perfectly in place.

He stormed up to me. "You just had to make a scene today, didn't you? Sofia just landed a key financial role, and the entire family was celebrating with her. Why did you have to stir things up now?"

He hit me without warning. I stumbled back from the impact, my cheek instantly swelling and burning.

A few seconds passed before I realized that tonight was actually Sofia's celebration dinner. Rocco had even postponed his Cartham trip for territory issues to be there for her.

Meanwhile, I was here with terminal leukemia, using our emergency code to call for help. But even though I was his wife, he treated it like I was abusing the protocol.

My vision blurred with tears, but I fought to hold them back.

I started to say something when a wave of violent coughing seized me. Blood splattered the floor, leaving dark red stains on the shiny beige marble.

After regaining my balance, I tried to explain in a shaky voice, still clinging to some last bit of hope. "I honestly didn't, Rocco."

Rocco might have spotted the blood at the corner of my mouth, and he furrowed his brows.

Sofia's delicate voice piped up at just the right time. "Rocco came here straight from the celebration to deal with your problem, Claire."

Lily Marone, my mom, complained at the doorway, "I told you we should ignore her. Nothing good ever comes when she is around. She has done all sorts of things for attention since she was young. Did she really think we would fall for such an obvious trick now?"

Rocco's face hardened. "Did you go as far as to harm yourself to get me here and sabotage Sofia's big night, Claire?"

He closed in on me and grabbed my collar.

Sofia quickly pulled him back. Her eyes welled up as she looked at me pitifully, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry, Claire. I never should have accepted this promotion. This is all my fault. Please stop hurting yourself.

"Rocco has been through so much because of you. If you can truly change for the better, I swear I'll never accept any more recognition from the family again."

Her words hit where it hurt most, shoving me further into the abyss and painting me as a villain behind everything.

Lily's tone immediately softened at those words. "Don't blame yourself, sweetheart. Someone as exceptional as you deserves every honor."

This wasn't the first time I had watched their loving scene, but it still cut deep every single time.

It had been ages since I had felt the kind of love a mother should have for me. These days, every ounce of it went to Sofia, but it hardly mattered. Facing death made me care less about many things.

I felt nothing inside. Before I knew it, bitter tang spread across my tongue as blood trickled from my lips.

Rocco took the doctor's report from me, glanced at it, and sneered. "Leukemia? You're terrible at faking being sick."

With a sharp rip, he tore the report to shreds, leaving paper scraps around my feet. His gaze lingered on my pale face for a second.

When our eyes met, I thought about how his eyes used to gleam at my 18th birthday. However, they were just dull and empty. The love had died, taking with it the spark.

I raised my trembling hand to wipe away the blood, fighting to keep my failing body upright as I turned to the lawyer again. "I'm cutting ties with my family and filing for divorce. Get it done so I'm free to go in three days."

Rocco flinched and grabbed my wrist. "You dragged the family lawyer into this just to ruin Sofia's celebration."

He spat through clenched teeth, "This is ridiculous. You need to go home and think about what you've done, Claire. Stop embarrassing yourself here."

Then, he put his arm around Sofia's waist and walked out without looking back.

Staring at my bruised wrist, I laughed bitterly and shook my head. I should have known better.

He never trusted me.

Fighting through the pain, I went ahead and signed the divorce papers. On the day I died, he would receive those signed papers and my will.

With just three days left to live, I ended our marriage with my own hands. Meanwhile, my husband was celebrating another woman's glory with his arm around her.

I stumbled back to the villa I shared with Rocco, but I had no intention of dying at that place. All I wanted was to pack my things. Then, I realized there was hardly anything there that was mine.

I went back to what was once my bedroom and discovered that it had been converted into a storage room.

My dressing table was pushed into a corner, covered in thick dust. My treasured books and photos were all dumped in cardboard boxes.

Only the bed remained in its original spot, but the sheets had long been replaced with rough gray cloth.

There was also a worn-out jewelry box containing the only birthday gift Rocco ever gave me—a cheap silver necklace.

Sitting on the bedside, I brushed the dust off the table. I froze when my fingers found a photo frame.

It was a photo from my 18th birthday. I wore a champagne dress, and my eyes still had life in them. Now, my face was drained of color with only emptiness in my gaze.

Even Sofia's walk-in closet was five times bigger than my storage room. The only things here were what she didn't want.

The original bedroom belonged to me as Rocco's wife had been turned into Sofia's yoga room two years earlier. It boasted the finest equipment, and the aromatherapy diffuser used luxurious essential oils.

They moved me into this small room with no windows. At this point, they even took this away from me and changed it into a storage room.

My phone suddenly rang, cutting off my thoughts.

A gentle woman's voice came through the phone. "Thank you for choosing Everrest Memorial Garden. Are you still interested in the burial plot you asked about, Ms. Moretti?

"We can hold it for seven days if you pay the deposit now. Otherwise, we'll have to offer it to other clients."

That was the resting place I had checked out a month before. Flawless marble artwork surrounded the area, and the exquisite glass coffin glittered under the dome light.

Finding eternal rest there was everything I had hoped for, but it cost 80 thousand dollars.

I looked at the few hundred dollars left in my wallet and paused. "No. Thank you."

I couldn't even afford a bone marrow transplant. I guessed I couldn't even afford to have a proper death.

I barely ended the call when the door pushed open. I looked up to see Rocco walking in.

He was used to catching the faint scent of lilies of the valley in every corner of the house. It was there because I loved them. Their fragrance stayed with me wherever I went.

The dead air now felt off to him, putting him on edge.

He frowned a little and subconsciously took a deep breath, trying to catch the familiar scent. However, there was nothing—only dust and the smell of mold.

But he promptly dismissed the strange feeling and glared at me. "What was that about a burial plot?"

Rocco's voice was flat and cold. "I've already warned you, Claire. Stop harming yourself to make people feel sorry for you. Do you find it entertaining?"

I didn't plan to respond, but the words were out before I could stop them. "I didn't—"

He interrupted, scolding me harshly, "Didn't what? We're done talking. Don't even think about taking what belongs to Sofia. Some things were never yours to have."

I broke down, and tears started streaming down my cheeks.

He insisted that the celebration, the place as the Don's wife, and even all his love belonged to Sofia. But what about everything that should have been mine? Had he forgotten it all?

I looked up and met his gaze. "Do you remember my 18th birthday celebration?"

Rocco's face went stiff for a moment, and his attention wandered to the photograph on the table. However, he quickly looked away and snapped, "What are you trying to say?"

I muttered, "That day, you promised to hold a grand wedding to announce me as your wife to every prominent family. But later, you said I was too incompetent to stand by your side."

He sounded annoyed. "What are you getting at?"

I continued, "Later on, you missed my 19th, 20th, and 21st birthdays. Yet, when it came to Sofia, you never missed a single occasion."

Rocco spun around. "That's enough, Claire! You always make a big deal out of nothing. Can't you see the bigger picture? If you didn't get so easily hurt and emotional, I might remember you exist."

I stared into his cold eyes, feeling the intimidating presence that came with his high rank in the mafia. In his eyes, my very existence was a mistake. My love, my sacrifices, and my pain were all wrong.

I murmured, "You're right, Rocco. I wasn't good enough."

I turned away from him. "The documents are in the second drawer on the left. I left you something inside, but give it three days before opening it."

He left without a word. The midnight chime sounded, and the room fell quiet again.

I clung to the battered frame, feeling my life slowly fade away. I only had two more days to go.

I stayed awake through the night. At daybreak, I heard car engines downstairs. My parents and Sofia were back.

Even from afar, their angry shouts reached me from outside the door. "You've got some nerve showing your face here, Claire!"

The door slammed open. Anthony Moretti—my dad and a capo of the Falcone family—glared at me. "You ruined Sofia's celebration. Meanwhile, she was in tears, begging us to forgive you. Don't you feel any shame? Apologize to her now."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, telling myself that I only have to put up with this for two more days.

There was a time he used to be protective of me like that. I remembered him comforting me when I got nervous handling a gun for the first time. "It's fine, Claire. Everyone goes at their own pace."

If I fell behind in learning the ropes of the family business, he would personally walk me through the basic stuff again and again without getting annoyed.

Things changed after Sofia showed up, though. She handled the family's finances on her own by 15. One year later, she already stood out among the elite members.

Meanwhile, when I was 18, I couldn't even hold a gun steady. On top of that, I finished dead last in the family's training program.

Before I knew it, she had taken my place as the good, obedient daughter in Anthony's eyes.

The strange thing was how I gradually became more frail after she entered my life. I felt nauseous and dizzy all the time. I couldn't handle the physical training, and even small cuts took forever to heal.

The doctor said it was just my natural constitution and recommended nutritional supplements. But no matter how hard I tried, my health only declined.

I started seeing the disappointment in his eyes. "Look at the difference between you and Sofia, Claire. How did the gap between you two get so wide?

"As the Don's wife, how will you survive the family's power struggles? How will you ever help Rocco carry the weight? Without the marriage agreement, I doubt you would have a place beside him."

Over time, his look changed from being let down to being downright ashamed. It felt like I was the family disgrace, and Sofia was the one who made him proud.

I looked up at her standing in the doorway. She was watching me with her wide, innocent eyes. Her face was painted with worry and concern.

Her voice was all soft, and she even had tears glistening in her eyes. She looked so vulnerable that everyone couldn't help but feel sorry for her. "Let's put this behind us, Claire. Can we go back to how we were when we were kids?"

She was a pro at such an act.

Sofia continued, "Don't tell me you've forgotten about the perfume you mixed for me. Tomorrow is the family anniversary. Could you mix another bottle of perfume? Let's call it a gift to celebrate my promotion."

A hint of relief flickered in Lily's eyes before she suggested, "Isn't this the only thing you're actually good at, Claire? Sofia is giving you a way out. It's more than you deserve. Go on already."

I didn't move a muscle. The smell of perfume hit me, and suddenly, I was thrown back seven years.

Back then, Dad just brought Sofia home. Thrilled, I set out to make her very first personalized perfume, going so far as to carefully seek out the most exotic ingredients.

All it took was her saying, 'I love the scent of rosemary' for me to burn my fingers on its poisonous sap.

I never brought it up, but the perfume ingredients and extracts were basically like poison to someone with a delicate constitution like mine. Getting them on my skin felt like being stabbed.

But I persisted and finally blended the perfect perfume.

Things ended with her having an allergic reaction to it. The family doctor said there was something in the perfume that triggered it.

When she came to, the first thing she did was burst into tears and throw herself into Rocco's arms. "Claire made the perfume with the best of intentions, Rocco. She said it wouldn't hurt to try it. Please don't be mad at her. This was entirely my own doing."

I helplessly stood there in front of the medical room under the heat of his glare. "I didn't know she was allergic to perfume. She never told me that."

He didn't bother to hear my side and locked me in the basement for three days. That was the nightmare of my life.

They didn't give me food or water. All I had was darkness and damp air.

I huddled in the corner, hearing all the cheers and laughter from outside. They threw a party to celebrate her recovery. By the time they let me out, I was so weak that I could barely stand.

Watching Sofia's flawless act, I remarked, "Have you forgotten? You're allergic to perfume."

Bringing that up made the atmosphere in the room suddenly tense.

Just then, Rocco walked in. He overheard us and stopped in his tracks.

Back then, even though I was barely conscious in the basement, I still heard him. He came to check on me in secret at night.

None of that mattered now, though. These days, he was completely on Sofia's side.

She chuckled softly, her voice carrying a hint of unease. "How am I allergic? That was years ago, Claire."

She moved a little closer. "My body is stronger now. I've gotten over the allergy."

As she spoke, she reached out to take my hand. "Take a look. I'm fine."

Her nails dug into my skin, and she just kept pressing harder. The pain got so bad that I had to pull away, and she just happened to fall to the floor.

That was when I saw her other hand quickly brush against her sleeve as she fell.

Then, she landed with a thud and started groaning in pain. The next second, red marks started appearing on her pale cheeks.

Lily screamed and rushed over to her. "Oh my god! Sofia is covered in a rash."

The rash quickly spread from her face to her neck and arms. It honestly looked like a severe allergic reaction.

Anthony looked like he wanted to burn a hole through me, his voice shaking. "What did you do to her, Claire?"

All I did earlier was shake her hand off. But I knew trying to defend myself was pointless.

Sofia leaned against Lily, whimpering in pain. "The itch is unbearable, Mom. But Claire wasn't on purpose."

Even in her agony, she kept putting on her act of defending me, and that really set everyone off.

Anthony saw how red and swollen Sofia's skin was and snapped, "You've gone too far this time, Claire."

Nothing I said could convince them. "That wasn't me."

Rocco stormed over and glared at me with pure hatred. "Stop making excuses. This is the second time. You've hurt her once more."

He carefully picked her up, handling her with remarkable gentleness.

She leaned weakly against his chest, her voice barely audible. "I already said it. My allergy was gone. It could be another reason."

Her eyes were on me as she spoke, and I noticed the smug look in her eyes. No one else saw it.

Rocco was shooting daggers with his eyes. "What else could it be? Who else has been near Sophia? Who else in this house is obsessed enough with perfume to carry it around besides Claire?"

Seeing how perfectly this was staged, I was overwhelmed with defeat. She had planned everything—down to the chemicals that triggered an allergy in her sleeve.

He charged at me and grabbed me by the throat, yelling, "I should have known how twisted you are deep down, Claire!"

His grip tightened. I could barely breathe, and my vision started to blur.

But in that intense moment, he saw my pale face and my lips turning blue from lack of air. Seeing me on the verge of death sent a shock through him.

A mix of dread and sympathy made him release me without thinking. I hit the wall, and the thud of my back against it filled the room. The taste of blood in my mouth grew stronger.

Sofia noticed the change in Rocco's expression. "Are you alright, Rocco? You look shaken."

He shook his head, ignored the unsettled feeling, and glared at me. The anger in his eyes hadn't faded at all, looking like he wanted to tear me apart.

He spat, "I never should have agreed to marry you if I knew you were so twisted inside. Get lost! I don't want to see your face again."

I dropped to the floor, done trying. I knew in my bones that this was the last time.

Their lack of trust didn't hurt me anymore, as my heart had already gone completely numb.