The day my mafia boss husband, Zann Lima, went bankrupt, a car accident crippled both his legs. He was paralyzed from the waist down.

I inherited his astronomical debt, and with it, the responsibility to care for him for the rest of his life.

For an entire year, I was beaten by debt collectors until I vomited blood, yet I couldn’t bear to buy painkillers.

I collapsed from exhaustion working eight jobs a day, yet I couldn’t bear to take a day off.

Every penny I earned went toward keeping Zann alive.

I believed this was love’s steadfast devotion, until one night, when I was delivering drinks at a club.

I stumbled upon the man who was supposed to be sitting and waiting for me at home in his wheelchair, now clinking glasses with his guests, who all revered him as Don!

I immediately clamped my hand over my mouth, terrified of making even the slightest sound.

Inside the private suite, Zann Lima was dressed in a black bespoke suit, perfectly tailored to accentuate his tall, slender frame. He looked nothing like the listless figure who had been confined to a wheelchair.

A cigar rested between his fingers as he lounged casually against the sofa, bantering with his men while emanating the commanding presence of a mafia boss.

“Don, you’ve kept up the act for a whole year now. Neve Steele has worked down to the bone to pay for your treatments. She barely looks human anymore. This should be enough of a punishment, shouldn’t it?”

One of the men asked cautiously.

Zann sighed helplessly.

“I never wanted this either. But she brought this on herself.

“If she hadn’t lashed out at Wandi back then, that worsened her depression, I wouldn’t have gone to such lengths.”

“How’s Ms. Silva now?” another man asked with concern.

Zann tapped ash from his cigar, his voice uncharacteristically gentle as he replied, “Much better. But the doctors say she still can’t handle emotional shock. Otherwise, she’ll relapse.”

Cold spread through my veins from head to toe.

So this entire year of suffering, everything that I had endured, was nothing more than his punishment for me.

Wanda Silva was his childhood friend. Ever since I married Zann, she had clung to him relentlessly.

Her parents died saving Zann’s parents, and because of that, he had always indulged her excessively.

Simply because I had defended myself against her insults, she had claimed to have depression and even threatened suicide.

I clutched my chest, gasping for breath as tears blurred my vision.

My fists clenched so tightly my nails dug deep into my palms, using the pain to keep myself upright.

“Wandi spent a year overseas, recuperating, before she was willing to forgive Neve. In a couple of days, I’ll stage a medical ‘miracle’, stand up again, and let her resume being the Donna. This year is a penance for her willfulness.”

Each word of his was uttered coolly, piercing deeper into my heart.

“But… it has been a year. Will she buy it?” someone asked hesitantly.

Zann smiled in confidence and said, “That fool? She believes everything I say. She loves me too much to ever doubt me.”

My body trembled violently. I was barely holding myself up.

He had always known about my sacrifices, yet treated me merely as a puppet to be manipulated at will.

Another man couldn’t help but speak up on my behalf.

“Don, just days ago, she sold the wedding ring to raise money for your medicine.

“A year ago, she sold the necklace that was your token of love…

“Now that she’s sold the ring too, she’s truly at the end of her road…

“Isn’t this punishment too harsh?”

Zann’s face hardened instantly.

“She’s my wife. I know what I’m doing! This punishment is about to end.

“Wandi is highly sensitive. Even a day less of punishment could trigger her condition!”

I staggered backward as my tears finally broke free.

Everything I had done, in his eyes, was to avenge Wanda.

And I was nothing more than a fool he could trample on.

I sank my teeth into my lower lip, hard enough to draw the metallic taste of blood and spread through my mouth.

Laughter suddenly erupted from the private suite.

Someone asked, unable to bear it any longer, “Don, aren’t you afraid Neve will leave you once she finds out the truth?”

A flicker of panic crossed Zann’s eyes, though gone as quickly as it came. He regained his composure once more.

The cigar twirled once between his fingers.

“She loves me too much for that. How could she ever leave me?

“The thing is, Neve is too willful. She took advantage of my love for her to bully Wandi, showing none of the grace of a Donna.”

I clutched my chest as though struck by a sledgehammer.

Staggering backward, I slammed straight into the manager carrying a tray of drinks.

The shattering of a bottle worth tens of thousands pierced the din, crimson liquid winding across the marble floor.

“Watch where you’re going!” the manager lashed out, slapping across the face.

I slammed onto the ground. Shards of glass embedded in my palms, yet I felt no pain.

All eyes instantly turned toward us, including the ones belonging to the person I loved the most.

Later, Zann and Wanda emerged from the private suite.

She wore a white dress, delicate as a fragile lily, tilting her head to smile at him.

“Wandi, why did you come back on your own?” Zann’s voice softened instantly.

“Are you tired? I’ve arranged for the best rehab team. We’ll start your recovery as soon as we get home.”

Wanda nestled into his embrace like a spoiled child, and he immediately tightened his arms around her, as if afraid she might shatter.

I knelt in blood, hair tangled, and face hidden.

The manager had been yelling.

“Can’t you watch where you’re going? Can you even afford to compensate for this bottle?”

Zann’s footsteps faltered for a moment.

My entire body tensed, nails dug deep into my palms.

If only he’d glance down once, he would recognize the battered, disgraceful woman as his own wife.

But he didn’t.

He merely swept a fleeting glance over me, kneeling on the floor, and paused for a moment before withdrawing his gaze. He was walking further away with his arm wrapped around Wanda.

“Enough,” he said coldly.

“Don’t recruit trash like this again. It’s an eyesore.”

Wanda leaned against his shoulder, turning back to flash me a triumphant smile.

She had recognized me all along.

“Zanny, let’s go,” she said sweetly.

“Alright,” he said as he pinched her cheek affectionately.

“We’ll have the chef make your favorite dishes when we get home.”

I watched their intertwined figures disappear down the hallway, and suddenly I burst into laughter.

Laughter spilled from the blood-tinged corner of my mouth, echoing sharply through the empty hallway.

A year of my devotion meant nothing compared to one wounded look from Wanda.

He spent a year pretending to be crippled, all to vent his anger for another woman’s sake.

The manager continued his tirade of insults as I staggered to my feet.

“The wine…” I croaked hoarsely. “I’ll pay for it.”

Zann was already far away when Wanda tugged his arm and pouted, “Zanny, my feet are so sore.”

He bent down instantly and swept her into his arms as effortlessly as lifting a feather.

As I watched this scene, my nose suddenly began to bleed, splattering crimson droplets onto the white floor.

“W-why are you bleeding from your nose?” the manager recoiled in alarm.

I wiped it away haphazardly, murmuring with a bitter smile, “Looks like I won’t last much longer either.”

When I pushed open the door to the rented apartment, there was a loud clatter from the kitchen, as if something had shattered.

I stood in place, watching as Zann sprawled beside his overturned wheelchair, straining to pull himself upright.

His face was flushed red, sweat soaking his forehead. The instant he saw me, his eyes reddened, his voice trembling with tears.

“Eve, I wanted to whip up something for you, but I’m so useless…”

He looked like a broken patient, completely stripped of the cold commanding presence he had exuded as a Don at the club earlier.

For a fleeting moment, I remembered the man he used to be before his farce. He was as proud as a wild eagle, arrogant and unrestrained.

Yet now, to punish me, he was willing to humiliate himself this way.

I walked over silently and lifted his wheelchair before kneeling to wipe his face and hands clean.

These practiced motions had become muscle memory, almost instinctive, for I had done them for the past whole year.

Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist with startling strength.

His gaze fixed on the palm of my hand, seeing the gash, and panic flickered through his eyes.

“Who hurt you?”

I met his eyes, enunciating each word evenly, “I cut myself when I knocked over a bottle of wine at the club.”

His hand jolted as if burned, and he released me at once.

His jaw clenched. His gaze shifted nervously as he averted his gaze from mine.

Later that night, lying in bed, I heard his hushed voice beyond the door.

“Wandi, I’ve prepared the biggest cake for your birthday party tomorrow. Do you like it?”

His voice was tender, dripping in saccharine.

Wanda’s sweet, cloying laughter came through the phone.

“Zanny, you’re so good to me. But tomorrow’s also Ms. Steele’s birthday…”

Zann hesitated before replying, “It’s fine. I’ll make it up to her with another gift.

“Once the punishment ends, I’ll give her the best gift out there!”

Lying in bed, listening to their conversation, my heart turned to stone.

He had remembered my birthday perfectly, yet chose this very day to celebrate another woman’s birthday.

Silently, I rose and went to set his supper and medicine on the table before leaving.

At the hospital, the doctor looked at my test results and sighed.

“Your brain cancer has progressed too far. You have at most two or three days left.”

Nodding calmly as if I had long anticipated this outcome, I said, “Alright.

“If I die, send my ashes to my husband.”

“Here. This is a strong painkiller. It will ease your suffering. When its effects wear off, you will…”

His sentence was left hanging, but I understood.

When the medicine ran out, so would my life.

The next morning, I wheeled Zann to the hospital for his “follow-up” appointment.

He gripped my hand tightly, his fingertips trembling slightly. With a tinge of hope, he said, “Eve, do you think this session might bring good news?”

“Of course,” I said in a lowered gaze to hide the sarcasm in my eyes.

The doctor greeted us at the hospital with theatrical delight.

“Ms. Steele, good news! We’ve developed a breakthrough drug for paralysis. Mr. Lima has been approved for a trial with a ninety percent chance of recovery!”

Zann’s eyes instantly reddened. He grabbed my hand tightly as he choked emotionally.

“Eve, did you hear that? I’ll be able to walk again! I can spend the rest of my life with you! Once I’m better, I’ll make sure you become the most esteemed Donna once more!”

Silently, I watched his performance with a heart as cold as ice.

The doctor spoke up in a timely manner, “Mr. Lima, I need to conduct a thorough examination. It’ll take about three hours to determine if you qualify for the trial. Ms. Steele, please wait outside for now.”

I nodded and turned to leave the consultation room, stopping at the corner of the hallway.

Not long after, the elevator doors opened.

Zann emerged from the room in steady steps, dressed in a crisp suit, with not a trace of disability remaining.

He strode into the elevator and pressed the button for the basement, where the Don’s private car waited.

As the doors closed, I smiled coldly.

Just then, my phone buzzed, and I glanced down to see it was a message from Wanda.

[Come to the villa. Zanny has a “surprise” prepared for you.]

I rushed to the city’s most luxurious villa district. This had once been our love nest, Zann’s and mine. Now, it overflowed with guests, bright and jubilant.

Wanda stood before a six-tier cake, wearing a glittering tiara on her head and a couture gown flowing around her. Like a princess, she clung to Zann’s arm.

She closed her eyes, clasped her hands, and smiled blissfully as she made her wish.

“I wish to always stay by Zanny’s side.”

Zann gazed at her with adoring eyes, a tender smile drawn.

He then retrieved a velvet box from his pocket.

My breath hitched.

I knew that box all too well.

Inside was a necklace, the token of our love he had given me on our wedding day.

A year ago, I had to sell it to cover his medical bills.

Back then, he’d promised he’d buy me something better someday.

Yet now, that very necklace rested around Wanda’s neck.

She touched it, feigning hesitation as she said, “Zanny, thank you for granting my birthday wish.

“But didn’t this belong to Neve? Won’t she be upset…”

A flicker of guilt crossed Zann’s face before he quickly regained his composure.

“It’s fine,” he said calmly. “She won’t mind. I’ll get her a better one.”

Applause thundered through the villa as I stood at the edge of the crowd, watching as my heart was carved raw.

He had already redeemed our token of love all along, just not for me.

I stumbled out of the villa as my phone began to vibrate frantically in my palm.

Wanda’s messages came one after another, each word like a knife.

[I recognized you at the club that day. Zann Lima is mine, and so is the necklace. You’re nothing but a stray dog.

[You might as well go die, Neve Steele.]

My nails dug into my palm as I stared at the screen. The taste of blood filled my mouth.

By the time I stumbled back to my apartment, night had fallen.

The strong painkillers were almost worn off. The doctor said once the effects were gone, my time would be up too.

The moment I opened the door, Zann greeted me as he rolled over his wheelchair. An apologetic smile appeared on his face as he said, “Eve, I qualify for the clinical trials!

“I’ll be able to walk again soon!

“Then, I’ll reclaim the Lima family! And you’ll be my Donna once more!”

I stared at the unappetizing plate of aglio olio, charred shrimp shells clinging to it, with my emotions tangled beyond words.

Noticing my blank stare at the dish, he scratched his head awkwardly.

“It might not look great, but it should taste okay.”

Then he pulled out a crude, handmade string necklace.

“Eve, look. I made this necklace for you. Once my legs are healed, I’ll find a way to buy back your necklace,” he spoke in regret etched on his face.

I accepted it, fingertips brushing its rough surface. My heart felt as if something was stuck in my throat.

After a moment of silence, I didn’t call him out.

I simply sat down and forced down the aglio olio, salty and bitter, bite by bite.

Early next morning, Zann rose before dawn. He changed into clean clothes and said to me energetically, “Eve, I’m going to the hospital for surgery, and will come back anew. I’ll make you the most dazzling Donna. Just wait for me.”

With a bitter smile curling my lips, I looked at him and replied, “I will.”

After he left, my brain cancer flared up.

A wave of excruciating pain washed over me as my vision turned black and I collapsed to the floor.

In my hazy consciousness, I seemed to have returned to our childhood.

Zann was braiding my hair, holding a piece of candy, smiling warmly as he said, “Neve, when I grow up, I’ll build you a castle and make you the happiest princess.”

Trembling, I mustered my last ounce of strength. With bloodstained fingers, I slid across the screen to send my last message.

[Zann, I’m not waiting anymore. My life repays you and Wanda. Bury me with my parents.]

Each word drained every ounce of energy from my body, as if pouring all the grievances, agony, and despair of the past year into that brief message.

When the message was sent, every shred of burden was lifted.

I closed my eyes, utterly drained.

My phone rang ceaselessly beside me.

Was Zann calling? Or more taunting messages from Wanda?

I could no longer hear. It didn’t matter anyway.

All I felt was exhaustion, so utterly tired, and all I wanted was to sleep and never wake up again.