The Don Lost His Love

My husband was Damian, the Don of the Manhattan Mafia.

Everyone thought he worshipped me, but the second his childhood sweetheart, Sophia, came back, I became invisible. He ditched me for her over and over again.

It all broke when I started miscarrying. Even as my blood stained his car seat, he didn't even flinch. He just shoved me out of the car.

"Sophia has a severe phobia of blood. You’re going to terrify her!"

I woke up in the hospital to a taunting text from her:

“I said I was a little hungry, and Damian actually got in the kitchen to cook for me. He spoils me way too much.”

The photo showed the most powerful man in the city personally making her a meal.

I didn't cry. I just called my mentor.

"Sir, I had thought it through, and I was accepting the invitation for that international medical research project. Get me out of here. The further, the better."

Since he couldn't let Sophia go, I decided to let them be.

In three days, I was leaving Damian’s world for good.

"Elena, are you sure about this? Once you join this international medical research project, everything about you in New York will be wiped clean for security reasons. Damian won’t be able to find you as long as he lives."

"I’m sure."

When I got home, Damian had just stepped out of the kitchen.

His cooking was world-class, but as the most powerful man in Manhattan, he had never lifted a finger to cook for me—not once.

"Back this late?" He walked over, reaching out to ruffle my hair out of habit.

I shifted to the side, dodging his touch, and walked straight into the master bedroom. There was Sophia, draped in my silk robe, lying grandly in our marriage bed.

Seeing me, Sophia flashed a weak, fragile smile.

"Elena, the doctor said I can't handle the cold. Damian said this room has the best climate control, so he let me stay here for a bit. You... you wouldn't hold a grudge against a dying woman, would you?"

Damian walked in, his voice carrying a trace of blatant favoritism he didn't even try to hide.

"Sophia doesn't have much time left. Just consider it as helping me pay back the debt I owe her father. Sleep in the guest room tonight. Once she’s a bit better, I’ll make it up to you—double."

For the first time ever, I didn't scream or make a scene. I just grabbed my laptop containing the evacuation files and turned to leave.

Behind me, I heard Sophia’s high-pitched cooing "Damian, this soup you made is amazing."

Damian’s deep voice held a rare tenderness. "If it's good, have some more. As long as you're happy, I’ll give you whatever you want."

This morning, I was in the middle of a miscarriage, watching his car speed away in the pouring rain, feeling nothing but despair.

He thought it was just a heavy period. He thought