The Don I Housebroke After Divorce

The Don of the Vito family, Damiano Vito, has broken his wedding vows by cheating on me with the daughter of the rival mafia family, Bianca Sorace, while I'm still pregnant with his heir.

He ends up executing Bianca with his own hands in order to reassure me as well as provide my family, the Cappas, with a satisfactory answer.

My parents advise me, "Now that Damiano has returned to your side, you mustn't kick up a fuss for the sake of both families' interests."

But since then, I've developed an obsession over cleanliness. Any form of physical contact is capable of making me dry-heave out of discomfort.

Since I can't take any medication at all, I can only spend my days venting my stress by demanding that everything be disinfected before touching me.

Damiano, who's known for having a violent temperament, is willing to keep disinfecting himself repeatedly for my sake. If he needs to make physical contact with me, he'll wear gloves.

Whenever he enters my room, he has to change into a biohazard suit. No matter how hot and stuffy it gets under the suit, he doesn't utter a word of complaint.

"It's fine. I was the one who broke the wedding vows first, anyway."

Finally, the moment I command Damiano to wash his hands yet again, he loses control of himself before me. He even goes so far as to shatter the ashtray right before my eyes.

"That's enough! All I did was make the mistake every man is capable of making! Must you humiliate me to this degree? How does that make me a filthy man?"

Damiano deliberately allows his subordinates, who are drenched in blood, to throw a party in the estate, thinking that it serves as a punishment for my obsession over cleanliness. He intends to force me to yield to him by threatening the baby in my belly.

Thanks to the nonstop aggravation, I feel intense pain flaring from my abdomen. Soon, blood keeps oozing down my inner thighs beneath my skirt.

But at the same time, I feel a sense of relief that I've never felt before.

"Let's get a divorce, Damiano."

I lay curled on the ground, the damp warmth beneath my skirt slowly leeching the heat from my body. With every second, inhaling Damiano Vito's scent and the metallic tang of blood churned my stomach.

I still remembered the pouring rain on the night I found out I was pregnant. Elated, I pushed open the study door, only to find Damiano making love to Bianca Sorace—one was my husband, and the other the daughter of a rival mafia family.

The sight of their intertwined bodies was sickening.

From then on, any contact from the outside world made me feel physically nauseated. I would scrub my hands obsessively, shower frantically, and refuse to touch anything that hadn't been sterilized at high temperature.

Damiano blamed it on my hormones. He humored me, participating in that charade of atonement—until tonight, when he