Eight years into my time with the Moretti family, I was both their most capable core member and Don Dominic's wife of three years—but we'd never actually signed the marriage contract.

　　Every single time we were about to go to City Hall to register, he'd ditch me for his female subordinate.

　　The first time, he left me waiting on the side of the road all day because she was sick and weak.

　　The second time, he dumped me halfway there because of one phone call from her.

　　After that, I got stood up again and again.

　　After being stood up for the seventeenth time, I decided to give them what they wanted.

　　I accepted the invitation to a top-tier medical project in Paris, packed my bags, and boarded a plane.

　　But when I actually left, he lost his mind...

Dominic and I had been together for eight years. He was the Don of the Moretti family.

In New York's underworld, everyone called me Donna.

Three years ago, we had a wedding at St. Patrick's Cathedral. Every major mob boss in America showed up. The whole thing was massive.

But only I knew the truth. That marriage contract, the one that would've given me legal protection—Dominic never signed it.

Today was his victory party for taking over Brooklyn territory. It was also the seventeenth time he'd promised to take me to City Hall after the party ended.

The banquet hall was thick with smoke. Expensive cigar fumes mixed with the smell of bourbon everywhere.

I sat next to Dominic. My body was burning up.

I had a fever. 103 degrees. My head felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.

"Dominic, I can't hold on much longer." I leaned over to him, my breath coming out hot.

"Just hang in there, Elena." He casually patted the back of my hand, his tone completely flat. "You need to be here today. All the Moretti family's books are in your head. Those old foxes need to see you sitting here to feel confident this deal is solid."

A few crew leaders with scarred faces walked over holding glasses of bourbon. Deep down, they looked down on women. But they feared Dominic, so the only way they could reclaim their pathetic male ego was by making me drink.

"Ma'am, you gotta drink this one for the Don. All these years, without you keeping his books straight, the family couldn't have held onto this throne."

I stared at that dark brown liquid. My stomach cramped.

Dominic still wasn't looking at me.

He was methodically cutting into his bloody steak, then smoothly forking a piece and placing it on the plate of the girl sitting beside him.

That was Mia. His new protégé he'd been personally training for the past two years.

I took the glass and downed it in one gulp. The harsh alcohol burned like fire straight into my lungs, triggering a violent coughing fit. I desperately suppressed it in my throat, clinging to what little dignity I had left. Dominic only glanced at me from the corner of his eye. He showed no concern whatsoever.

When the party ended, New York's cold wind cut straight through to the bone.

Dominic, who was supposed to take me to City Hall, stopped at the door. He pulled open the car door, but just as I was about to get in, he blocked the entrance with his body.

"Mia got startled blocking a bullet for me earlier. And she's had too much to drink. I need to take her to the safe house first."

Without waiting for my response, he stepped right past me and carefully helped Mia into what should've been my passenger seat.

Mia half-closed her eyes, looking all fragile as she leaned against the leather seat. That tiny scratch on her arm, barely two centimeters long, was wrapped in layers and layers of bandages.

"We've missed the window for signing. City Hall's already closed." He got into the driver's seat without even looking back at me. "Another time. When I'm free. Take one of the guys' cars home. I'll bring you some jewelry tonight to make up for it."

The window slowly rose. He sealed it shut tight, afraid the cold wind would hit his delicate new recruit.

I stood under the streetlight. My hands and feet felt like ice.

I remembered all those times after I'd finish entertaining for him, reeking of alcohol. Even in minus-ten-degree winter weather, he'd roll down all the windows, letting the knife-like wind slice across my face, just to keep his car's air "fresh."

Turned out he never hated the smell of alcohol, I thought bitterly. He just didn't care about me.

I opened my purse and looked at that crumpled marriage contract draft.

I made up my mind right then and there. These eight years—I didn't want them anymore.

---

That afternoon, I went to the family headquarters.

I avoided Dominic's watchdogs and slapped my resignation statement directly onto the old advisor's desk.

"You're leaving? Does Dominic know?" The old advisor pushed up his reading glasses, shock written all over his face. "You're the family's financial brain. All the secret money flows are in your hands."

"I'll tell him tonight. Right now he's busy taking Mia to the opera. He's got no time for small matters like this." My tone was calm.

The old advisor let out a sigh. "That wedding three years ago was so grand. What a waste."

Not a waste, I thought. I just didn't want to keep feeding my youth to a cold-blooded wolf anymore.

---

I got home around ten at night.

My phone screen lit up. It was a post from Mia.

The photo showed a private box at a top opera house. Dominic's tall figure sat beside her, the lighting all soft and romantic. The caption read: "The best seat for the person who deserves it most. Thank you Dom~"

I scrolled past it without expression, turned off my phone, and opened my laptop. I clicked on an encrypted email from sender "S."

It was an invitation to a top-tier medical project in Paris.

Five years ago, Dominic nearly died on a mission in Paris. It was his only defeat. His forbidden territory. Not only would he never go there himself, he'd cut off every possibility of me developing anything there.

In the past, because I loved him, I'd turned down that invitation countless times to avoid any suspicion.

But now, my fingers on the mouse were more decisive than ever.

I clicked to accept the invitation. Then I booked a first-class ticket to Paris for two days later.

Dominic—let's never meet again in this lifetime.

The next morning, before the fog had even lifted over New York, I started packing.

Most of the expensive dresses in my closet were there to match Dominic's social events. I didn't touch a single one. I only folded a few sharp black shirts into my suitcase.

Halfway through packing, I heard footsteps in the hallway.

Dominic pushed the door open. He was still wearing his black suit, exhaustion written between his brows.

But when he got close, that heavy, sickly sweet, aggressive perfume smell exploded in the air like an invisible slap across my face.

That was Mia's scent.

Dominic used to always say he had scent allergies. He wouldn't let me use anything with fragrance in the house.

To accommodate him, for eight years I'd only bought unscented skincare products.

Now it was clear, I thought. His so-called "allergy" was just selective targeting. Against me.

"Mia sobered up too late last night. She kept complaining about her wound hurting. I got a hotel room to stay with her. Didn't come home." He looked at the suitcase on the floor and, for the first time ever, explained where he'd been.

I didn't stop what I was doing. I just nodded calmly. "Got it."

He walked up to me and stared down at the open suitcase. "Packing for a business trip?"

"Something like that. Going to handle some old bad debts in offshore accounts. Meet with some informants in Europe." My tone was professional and detached.

He believed it.

In his eyes, I'd long since become the most obedient cog in the Moretti family's power machine. As long as I was still working for his empire, I'd never escape his control.

"I just came back to grab something. Won't stay for lunch. Mia has a follow-up appointment this afternoon." He walked straight to the safe in the corner of the bedroom.

The metal combination lock clicked. He grabbed a red velvet jewelry pouch from inside, shoved it into his suit pocket, and hurried out.

The door slammed shut.

The moment it closed, the photo frame that had hung in the entryway for eight years shook loose and crashed onto the tile floor, shattering into pieces.

I crouched down and stared at the broken glass.

That was our photo from our first date in Sicily. Dominic had knelt on the beach in front of a cross and sworn that every year on this day, no matter what happened, he'd ignore everything else and spend our anniversary with me alone.

But ever since Mia appeared, he'd even forgotten what day it was.

I threw the broken glass into the trash without expression. The glass had cut through our faces in the photo. I didn't hesitate. I tossed it all out with the garbage.

---

That evening, my best friend Sophia's calls came bombing through.

"Elena! You need to check Mia's post right now!"

I opened my phone.

In Mia's latest selfie, she was wearing a limited edition Patek Philippe diamond watch. In her other hand, she was showing off that red velvet pouch Dominic had taken at noon.

He'd rushed back home, not to check on me with my high fever, but to grab what should've been the "Don's wife" custom gift and use it to spoil his new girl.

Mia's caption was deliberately provocative: "Three-year anniversary. So grateful for you. Happy anniversary, Dom!"

Three years? I stared at the calendar. My hands went cold.

Today was the three-year anniversary of Dominic bringing Mia into the business. But it was also the three-year anniversary of our wedding at the cathedral.

He'd taken my gift. He'd forgotten my day. On our anniversary, he was celebrating with another woman.

"He doesn't need a divorce because he never signed that document in the first place," I told Sophia on the other end of the line. "There was never a legal relationship between us."

---

At eleven at night, Dominic came home with the cold air clinging to him. Out of habit, he took off his coat and held it out toward me, expecting me to hang it up for him.

I stayed seated. Didn't move. His hand froze in midair. His eyes swept toward the entryway. On the wall where that huge photo used to hang, there was now only a square white mark.

Dominic froze in place. For the first time, panic showed in his eyes.

"Elena... where's the photo?"

"It fell and shattered. I threw it out." I turned a page of my French dictionary, my tone flat.

Dominic walked quickly to the trash can and stared at the broken glass inside for a long moment. His tense shoulders finally relaxed a bit.

Then he casually pulled out a Gucci necklace box from his coat pocket and tossed it onto my bed.

"The compensation I promised you yesterday. Today's our three-year wedding anniversary. Happy anniversary."

I looked at that familiar orange packaging. I felt nothing.

Mia's post must've reminded him, so he'd picked it up on his way home.

But he'd obviously forgotten. He'd given me the exact same necklace last year. And the year before that.

He couldn't even bother to change it up when he was going through the motions.

I didn't say anything. Just quietly looked at him.

"By the way," Dominic started somewhat hesitantly, his fingers unconsciously fidgeting with his cufflinks, "the year-end family merit awards—can you step back from that? Let Mia have the spot. She's been in the business three years. She needs that position to establish herself. You're already the 'Don's wife.' You don't need these empty titles."

I laughed bitterly inside.

So this belated anniversary gift was just leverage for a power exchange.

"Sure." I nodded.

I wouldn't be competing with her for anything anymore. Because after tonight, I'd be completely out of his world.

"You... agreed?" Dominic clearly hadn't expected me to give in so easily.

He stared at me for a few seconds, then looked visibly relieved and praised me: "Elena, I knew you'd understand. Mia's someone I'm investing in heavily. As her senior, it's right for you to be gracious."

As if to make up for it, he took the initiative for once: "Tomorrow morning at ten, I'll cancel everything and take you to City Hall to sign. I'll be on time this time."

I didn't respond.

He noticed my suitcase piled by the entryway and asked, "What time's your flight tomorrow?"

"Three in the afternoon."

I looked up at him, wanting to finally tell him I was completely leaving the family.

But before I could say anything, his phone started vibrating like crazy.

It was Mia.

He listened for a few seconds on the phone. His expression changed instantly.

Dominic hung up, avoiding my eyes somewhat guiltily. "Um... Mia's crying. Says she twisted her ankle. The power went out in her apartment. She's terrified being alone. I need to go take care of it."

This time, his tone actually carried a hint of asking for permission.

I swallowed the words on the tip of my tongue and forced a polite smile. "Go ahead."

He looked relieved, grabbed the coat he'd just taken off, and headed out.

Before leaving, he stopped and added solemnly, "Tomorrow morning at ten, I'll definitely be at City Hall on time. No matter what happens, I'll make it back. Trust me."

I looked at the closed door and laughed at myself. In the end, he never gave me the chance to say goodbye in person.

---

The next day at ten in the morning.

I didn't show up at City Hall. Instead, I took my small carry-on suitcase straight to the airport.

By noon, my phone still hadn't rung. Dominic was so busy he'd even forgotten to call and ask.

At 2:50 in the afternoon, the gate announcement started calling for boarding.

In the last moment before boarding, I got a text from him:

"Sorry, Mia kept feeling sick. I just got her out of the ER. Didn't make it. Elena, when you get back from your trip, I'll take you to sign first thing. I promise."

Staring at those words, I realized I didn't feel anything anymore.

The eighteenth time. Between me and Mia, he'd chosen Mia again.

I moved my fingers and sent one final message: [Don't bother, Dominic. I've officially resigned from the family. Don't ever contact me again.]

After sending that last text, I powered off my phone, pulled out the SIM card without expression, and tossed it into the airport lounge trash can.

The cabin door slowly closed. The plane engines roared. I watched New York outside the window gradually shrink to a blurry dot. Only one thought filled my mind:

Goodbye, Dominic.

Goodbye forever.