When the Last Rejection Turned Into a Plea

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