He Strayed, I Slayed: Don Husband's Downfall

On the fifth year after marrying Giovanni Santoro, the Don of the Santoro family, he decides to make a public appearance with his mistress, Valentina Conti.

He no longer denies the truth behind the romantic scandals. Videos of them that have been taken in secret, as well as salacious gossip featuring the two, are spread like wildfire in New Albion. It's an act of declaring ownership over Giovanni that he himself has silently permitted.

There are even busybodies who don't know their place and decide to prod me for answers with smiles on their faces.

"Does this mean someone else is going to replace you as the Donna of the family?"

That night, the underworld of New Albion secretly goes through a thorough purge. I file for a divorce with Giovanni immediately before marrying his biggest enemy, Franco Messina.

After that, the Santoro family goes into bankruptcy. Their power and authority easily crumble into dust.

Giovanni kneels before me. With tears running down his face, he begs me for forgiveness.

I just smile while waving the divorce agreement in my hand.

"Sorry, but we're already divorced."

Giovanni Santoro, Don of the Santoro family, had reserved the entire banquet hall at Skyline Convention Center for a university student named Valentina Conti.

Every major figure in the city had gathered—all to celebrate the 19th birthday of Giovanni's new mistress.

Everyone said he had genuinely fallen in love with Valentina. Yet, as Donna Santoro, I was the last to know.

That morning, the news was on television.

The reporter, clearly with ill intent, asked, "Ms. Conti, with an event this grand, aren't you worried Donna Santoro will hear about it?"

Valentina smiled, innocent yet bold. She pulled Giovanni close and planted her red lips on his cheek. Then, she winked at the camera. "Who will be Donna Santoro in the future? That's anyone's guess."

Silence fell over the room as the camera shifted to Giovanni.

He showed no anger and made no move to stop her. Instead, he let out a low chuckle, raised his hand, and slowly rubbed the lipstick mark on his cheek. It looked as though he were savoring it or indulging her.

I calmly took a sip of my coffee and commented, "No wonder Giovanni didn't come home last night."

Beside me, my best friend, Angela De Luca, was visibly more furious than I was. "She's humiliating you in front of everyone, and you're just sitting here?"

I shrugged, unconcerned.

"Our marriage was an alliance. There was never any real love," I replied. "As long as the Santoro family's power, money, and influence end up in my hands, I could find more mistresses for him and deliver them to his arms."

Angela looked at me, a flicker of compassion crossing her eyes.

We had been friends for over a decade. So, she knew better than anyone just how much I loved Giovanni back in my teens.

He was the only one I wanted to marry. I had thrown everything