Amara’s POV

"What the hell did you do?" Luca bellowed as he stormed in, the door to my office slamming open with a deafening crash, splintering the wood against the wall.

"Luca, what are you talking about?" I demanded, recovering from the surprise of his sudden visit.

"Don’t play innocent with me, Amara!" he spat, stalking toward me like a predator closing in on its prey. "Casey is in the hospital because of you. The brakes on her car were tampered with, and don’t you dare act like you had nothing to do with it."

I froze. "What?" I questioned in disbelief. "You think I would stoop so low?"

His eyes burned with rage, and he sneered at me as if I were something vile. "Don’t lie to me! You couldn’t stand that she’s carrying my child, could you? You wanted her dead because of your jealousy, your bitterness!"

His accusations hit me like a slap in the face, and my head throbbed in anger, my breath coming in shallow bursts. "I didn’t touch her car. I’d never hurt her, no matter how much she…" I swallowed hard, anger and betrayal tangling inside me. "How can you even think I’d do such a thing?"

"Because it’s exactly the kind of thing you’d do, Amara!" he roared, slamming his fist on the desk. The sound echoed, and a lamp tumbled to the floor, shattering. "You had every motive—especially now that half of your f*cking assets have been transferred to Casey’s name. You’d kill her!"

I stared at him, "What did you just say?" my voice barely carried the words as I stepped towards him, my fists clenching at my sides and I wanted to punch him to scream in his face, but the shock was still swirling in my system.

My assets, everything I worked hard for, she had gotten half of it?! No. It can’t be!

Luca stepped closer, his face contorted in a mix of anger and disdain. "Half of what was yours is now hers. She deserves it more than you ever did. She’s carrying my child, Amara. That means everything in this family."

"You gave her what belongs to me?!"

"You don’t deserve any of it," he barked. "Not after the way you’ve acted. You’re a bitter, conniving woman, Amara. Casey deserves better, and so do I."

"How dare you?" I hissed, stepping closer to him. My body trembled, but it wasn’t fear; it was rage. "You had no right. I built this family alongside you. I’ve given everything for The Obsidian, and you hand over what’s rightfully mine to her?"

"Don’t stand there pretending to be the victim," he snapped. "You’re nothing but a jealous, spiteful woman."

"I did nothing to Casey!" I shouted, my voice cracking under the weight of my anger. "Nothing! And you accuse me of trying to kill her because you think I’m jealous? Because you gave her what you stole from me?"

Luca’s eyes darkened, and before I could react, he grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall. The impact stole the air from my lungs, and I clawed at his wrist as he tightened his grip.

"Pray that nothing happens to Casey or my child," he growled, venomously. "If they don’t survive, I’ll kill you. Do you hear me? I. will. kill. You.” And with every word he uttered, he tightened his grip, leaving me no air, feeling my lungs burning and my face hot with blood rushing.

When he released me, I collapsed to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. Tears blurred my vision as I clutched my neck with trembling hands. But the pain wasn’t just physical—it was the final, shattering blow to everything I had left.

Luca loomed over me, towering at my crumpled body. "This is your last warning, Amara. Cross me again, and I’ll strip you of everything—your power, your name, your life." He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

For a long moment, I stayed there, catching my breath. The silence in the room felt deafening. My thoughts swirled with a storm of anger, hurt, and despair. He had taken everything. My trust. My dignity. My legacy. And now, he had tried to take my life.

I pushed myself to my feet, clutching the edge of the desk for support.

I couldn’t stay any longer. Not as his wife, his Donna, or anything else.

It’s over. I’m done.

Now, it’s time to claim the devil’s offer.

~~~

Two days later, I walked into the City hall, hiding the bruises on my neck beneath a high-collared coat. My lawyer trailed behind me, clutching the divorce documents. The Judge behind the desk paled as soon as he saw me, his pen halting mid-signature.

"Ms. Amara Saints," he began, his voice trembling slightly. "These matters take time…" he said after glancing at the divorce papers.

I cut him off with an icy glare. "You’ll process these immediately," I uttered, leaving no room for argument.

He stammered, glancing at my lawyer as if for backup. He knew who I was, who we are, and that we are beyond the law in this cruel world.

"These things… there are procedures. It could take up to a week to—"

"Two days," I interrupted sharply, leaning forward. "You’ll finalize this in two days. And if that’s not possible…" I smiled, a faint, humorless curve of my lips, "you’ll wish it were."

The color drained from his face, giving away that he understood what I meant. "Yes, of course. Two days," he said hastily, his hands trembling.

I straightened, satisfied. "Good. And just so you’re clear, Matteo Vitale knows about this. I trust you understand what that means."

His eyes widened at the mention of Matteo’s name, and he nodded quickly. "It will be done, Ms. Saints." I knew he feared him more because he could take his life, or strip him of his name and power. It’s a world where the ones seated are not the actual rulers—the gods are hidden behind curtains—like marionettes pulling strings to make the government dance at their will.

I turned and strode out. I stopped against a Corinthian column and dialed Matteo. The line clicked after a single ring.

"Amara Saints," he sounded amused. And knowing him, he must’ve heard the news already. The Judge probably contacted him to confirm.

"The divorce is being processed. It’ll be finalized in two days.”

There was a pause, followed by a low, devilish chuckle. "Efficient. Just as I’d expected from you, Amara" Matteo said, his voice warm with approval. "Good girl."

Luca’s POV

“Davenport!” I called for the butler since the manor was eerily quiet.

No footsteps. No chatter from the staff. I came to find Amara since the family’s businesses had been having issues and I expected her to handle them, it was her job, while I was attending to Casey and my child in her womb, who both luckily survived and were doing well now in the hospital. And yet, this was what I came home to, an empty house.

The butler appeared a moment later, but something was off.

“Where is Amara?” I demanded, shrugging off my coat and tossing it onto the nearest chair.

“The Donna hasn’t been home for several days,” he replied, and I could see the hesitation and wandering of his eyes like he knew something but didn’t know how to say it.

I took a step closer, my jaw tightening. “What the hell do you mean she hasn’t been home? I’ve been tied up at the hospital, dealing with…” I stopped myself, biting back the words. “And nobody thought to inform me? The family businesses are having issues and no one has been attending them, where the hell is she, Davenport?!”

Davenport’s gaze lowered to the floor, “I was under the impression the Donna’s whereabouts were not my concern.”

“Don’t play coy with me, Davenport. Where is she?”

He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out an envelope. “She left this for you, sir.”

I snatched it from his hand, ripping it open before he could say another word, and after scanning the contents, my stomach flipped and the veins in my temple throbbed in fury. Divorce papers.

For a second, I just stared at them, the words blurring as my mind tried to process what I was seeing. Divorce. She wanted out.

A bitter laugh escaped me. Of course, she did. After everything, this was her way of getting back at me—making a statement, reminding me that she wouldn’t bend or break.

But this? This was more than defiance. This was war.

I tossed the papers onto the coffee table, shaking my head. “She actually thinks she can walk away,” I muttered, mostly to myself, believing that she would come back, that this was only her way to manipulate me into believing her lies and pity her.

“Shall I inform the staff to prepare for her return?” Davenport asked, his tone as dry as ever.

“Did she say she’s coming back?” I snapped, the words leaving a sour taste in my mouth.

He silenced and quietly disappeared as I tossed the divorce papers on the table.

I was torn between disbelief and anger. Amara was stubborn, but this? This was beyond anything I had expected.

I’d underestimated her. That much was clear.

The TV droned on in the background, the noise filling the void, but I wasn’t paying attention until a familiar name pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Matteo Vitale…” the head of the Vitalus Circle, a mafia rival of ours.

I turned to face the screen, narrowing my eyes as the news anchor continued.

“Matteo Vitale has announced his engagement to Amara Saints, a private businesswoman and philanthropist…”

The words slammed into me, each one a knife to the chest.

The screen showed a video of them together—Amara in a sleek black dress, her hand resting on Matteo’s arm like it belonged there. She smiled faintly at the reporters and her head tilted slightly as Matteo spoke to the press.

My vision blurred with rage.

“She didn’t,” I muttered, my fists clenching at my sides.

But she had.

The headline scrolled across the screen like a taunt: “Matteo Vitale Finally Finds His Match: The Mysterious Amara Saints.”

My teeth gritted, jaw tightened until it ached.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen, every second of the clip was igniting something darker inside me. She looked at ease, confident with a smile, like this was her new reality. Like I didn’t exist.

I grabbed the remote and threw it to the TV, the monitor shattered and off. But the images in my head, of Amara and Matteo… how dare she?!

She’d humiliated me. Not just in private but in front of the entire world. And the mafia circles—god, they’d already be talking. And for her to marry our notorious rival in the mafia, what would others say then?

This wasn’t good. She was ruining my reputation.

I shook my head and paced around. “I want her back, I need her with me. She can’t be with that damn Matteo Vitale. He can’t have her.”

My thoughts halted when my phone buzzed. I yanked it out, expecting a message from our advisors who might have heard about this news already.

But I was shocked to see Amara's name.

A digital wedding invitation stared back at me after I clicked the notification open.

“My dearest ex-husband, consider this your invitation to watch me marry a real man.”