The Price of the Mafia’s Test

My boyfriend is the heir to Sicily's top mafia clan.

To test my loyalty, he never spent a single dime on me during our five years together. Even when we bought condoms, he insisted we split the bill fifty-fifty.

Last week, I was in a car accident. To save the baby in my womb, I urgently needed $1,000 for emergency surgery. I called him from the hospital, begging for the money, but he accused me of lying to extort cash from him and hung up.

Desperate, I begged every friend and contact I knew. By the time I finally scraped the sum together, a unbearable pain tore through my abdomen—my baby's heart had already stopped beating.

After burying my baby, I went back to pack my bags. That was when I accidentally found a birthday gift list he had prepared for his childhood neighbor, Nadia.

A luxury yacht, a star named after her, and endless designer goods.

Right then, his voice drifted in from the next room as he spoke on a phone call with his underbosses.

"Hey Boss, is it true Elena begged you for a grand?"

Dante Moretti scoffed arrogantly. "Yeah, and I stood my ground and refused. Nadia is right. Elena is just a helpless orphan who can't leave me. But to enter my family, she has to pass a strict test. It’s almost over. She’ll realize I did all this for her own good."

So my five years of devotion, and my baby's life, were nothing more than a twisted test for a repulsive mafia title.

Whatever. It didn't matter anymore.

The moment the doctor announced my baby was dead, I had already decided to walk away from him forever.

The front door clicked open just as I put the gift list back.

Dante walked in, smelling of expensive tobacco, and collapsed onto the sofa next to me with his usual arrogant swagger.

"So you’re finally back," he said, lecturing me like a child. "Are you still throwing a fit because I didn't give you the cash? Learn from Nadia and grow up, Elena. You'll realize later it’s all for our future."

He looked so earnest, acting as if this was all pure, well-meaning love. But the real message was short and brutal: he needed to constantly test me to prove I wasn't after his money, just to see if I was worthy of his family.

He leaned in to hug me, but I slid away, completely dodging his arms.

Dante froze for a second, staring at his empty hands before glaring at me. To him, I was just throwing a childish tantrum over a petty $1,000.

"Stop acting out. I’m exhausted from work. Go make me some dinner," he commanded, instantly switching back to his mob-boss routine.

His attitude wasn't like this when he was chasing me five years ago. Back then, he pretended to be a broke office clerk buried under student loans and company debt.

"Elena, I have nothing, and I can't promise