Mafia Boss Husband’s Regret After My Death

I died five years ago. Now my husband, the Don of our Mafia family, wants me to take the fall for his sister again—this time for accidentally killing a British noble's heir during an arms deal.

He's holding a fake confession letter with my forged signature, storming into my old apartment in the rust district, only to find it empty.

Frustrated, he grabs the corner store owner downstairs, demanding to know where I am.

The owner pauses, wiping his hands on his apron, calmly tells him:

"Serafine? She died five years ago."

"Heard it was retaliation from a rival family during the gang war. They ambushed her in an alley... shot her over a dozen times. She died immediately."

My husband, Lucien, refuses to believe it. Convinced the owner is on my payroll, hiding me to help me escape his reach.

He scoffs, his eyes filled with scorn:

"Oh, so what? Because I called her out for messing up that last job, now she's throwing a tantrum?"

"You tell her, if she doesn't come back and take the fall in three days, I'll revoke her grandmother's 'special family protection'! Let the old woman rot!"

With that, he storms out, his rage still simmering.

The owner watches him leave and sighs, shaking his head. "There's no grandmother left to protect... That woman passed away not long after Serafine did... couldn't survive the winter without our family's medical supplies and protection..."

I died five years ago. Now my husband, the Don of our Mafia family, wants me to take the fall for his sister again—this time for accidentally killing a British noble's heir during an arms deal.

It was exactly because I took the fall for Kate on Lucien’s orders that I left the family five years ago—and that incident completely broke my heart.

Now, he’s come to me again—and it’s still to make me take the fall.

My ghostly form floats in the air as Lucien bursts into the apartment, clutching the ridiculous confession letter.

What touching "sibling love," all at my expense.

"Playing dead? An outcast like you, where could you possibly hide?"

"Kate just got word—international investigators are already on the case! You're the Madre! You should be standing up for family members!"

"I'm counting to ten. You'd better show yourself!"

I look at his impatient face. Five years later, and he's still as entitled as ever.

Too bad for him. I'll never again appear at his beck and call like I used to.

Because I'm already dead.

"Serafine! Are you listening? Kate said it was an accident! Even if you take the blame, there's no real danger! What's wrong with helping me... helping Kate just this once?!"

He suddenly erupts, kicking the bedroom door with a heavy thud.

Inside, there's still no one.

Lucien curses under his breath, searches frantically one more time, and finally accepts that I'm not here.

He slams the apartment door shut on his way out.

The corner store door flies open as Lucien grabs the owner who's restocking the shelves: "You see Serafine? The woman who used to live on the third floor."

The owner pauses, sets down the goods: "Serafine? She died five years ago."

I see Lucien's hand freeze for a second, then he sneers: "Don't lie to me. Trash like her wouldn't die that easily."

"Not lying," the owner points toward a dark alley outside. "Five years ago, rival family found her... ambushed her in that alley... shot her more than a dozen times. They found her already gone. Sir, were you... her...?"

The natural ness of his response surprised Lucien.

Obviously, he did not anticipate my death. His brow furrows, and I think I see... pain?

But then his phone buzzes—it's a message from Kate:

"Never mind, Lucien. Serafine's still mad at me... she won't help me. I'll take responsibility for everything. Without me by your side, you have to take care of yourself."

Just those words confirm to Lucien that my "death" is just my way of refusing to help him.

"Stop playing games! She's hiding somewhere. Tell me—how much did she pay you?"

The owner sighs: "Sir, you can't just accuse people like that... it was in the news..."

"You believe everything you read in the news?" Lucien's voice rises.

As the Don of the most powerful crime family in the western territories, Lucien believes buying off the press is child's play.

He steps closer, his eyes threatening: "I'm saying this one last time. Tell her! Three days! Only three days! If she doesn't show up, I'll cut off all medical support and protection for her grandmother! Let the old woman die waiting for treatment!"

The owner opens his mouth to explain, but Lucien cuts him off with a wave.

"Shut up! Do as I say! Either she shows up, or... start preparing that old woman's funeral!"

With that, Lucien turns and strides out. The door slams behind him.

The owner watches him disappear around the corner, shakes his head, and sighs to the empty counter:

"There is no grandmother... the woman passed away soon after Serafine did... without our medicine and protection. The whole family is gone..."

I float nearby, staring at the dust on the shelves. My soul feels covered in that same cold, suffocating ash.

Lucien did arrange for the family to give my grandmother and me some money for daily supplies and medical drugs, but Kate—his sister—cut that off five years ago.

While my elderly, sick grandmother—my only living relative—was coughing up blood in a cold room, desperately waiting for medical supplies, Kate was using that money to buy herself luxury goods.

When I was stabbed to death in a dark alley, with Kate's assassins making it look like a revenge killing, Lucien was attending a quarterly meeting of the family's elders with her by his side, basking in the spotlight.

After my death, Kate even prevented well-meaning people from helping, refusing to provide even basic supplies for the elderly woman.

And the mastermind behind it all—Kate, that seemingly innocent stepsister—has been planning this for five years.

She sent her men to kill me, framing it as a revenge killing from rivals. She orchestrated the cutting of all support for my grandmother, leaving her to die in despair.

Now she's whispering in Lucien's ear, twisting facts, turning him against me, making him believe I'm cruel and selfish, hiding while they face trouble, even "abandoning" my own grandmother.

She didn't just take my life. She indirectly killed the only person I had left. She drained every last bit of value from me.

And now, she's building herself as the innocent victim and painting me as the villain, making the man I once loved hate me more with every passing day.