Sending You to Hell

In the seventh year of marrying Don Sebastian Quinn, I finally stopped loving him.

After finishing the family business in the afternoon, I found an excuse to go out for coffee; He wanted to take me to attend the family core meeting, but I politely declined by saying I had to fly to Paris to watch a show; When he finally refused his social engagement and tried to get intimate with me, I lied about feeling unwell and slept in a separate room.

Even when his lover was wearing my silk nightgown and commanding the housekeepers in the living room, I calmly complimented her good figure.

My indifference finally hurt this man.

He forcefully grabbed my chin in the middle of the night, his eyes red. "Why aren't you mad seeing another woman sleeping in my bed? Nicola Scott, I'm your husband. Don't you care at all?"

I looked at his out-of-control state and only smiled faintly, thinking, 'Sebastian, you've probably forgotten that I loved you the most during the years you punished me by making me kneel and reflect on my actions.'

Nicola's POV

When I had no response, Sebastian Quinn punched the mirror behind me. The glass shattered, and the glass fragments cut the back of his hand.

Instead of panicking and looking for the first-aid kit as I usually would, I summoned the Consigliere, George Johnson, to handle the situation and then turned around to go to the dressing room to pick out my outfit.

"Nicola Scott, do you no longer care about my bleeding?" Sebastian's voice echoed behind me, carrying a suppressed anger.

I turned my head around calmly. "You're someone who does big things. This minor injury won't affect you much." After a pause, I added, "Winnie Jenner is afraid of blood, so don't scare her."

When it came to Winnie, Sebastian's fury diminished instantly. He stood still, his face a mixture of paleness and fury. Finally, he slammed the door and left.

The next morning, Winnie wore my haute couture silk nightgown, purposely showing off the hickies on her neck as she strolled downstairs. She gestured towards the red velvet cake on my plate and remarked, "Donna Quinn, Don Quinn mentioned you gained weight lately. This cake is loaded with calories. Why not let me have it instead?"

I popped the last piece of cake into my mouth and wiped the corner of my mouth with a napkin. "Since you like eating other people's leftovers, these crumbs are indeed perfect for you."

Winnie's face flushed instantly, and she looked aggrievedly at Sebastian, who had just come downstairs. "Don Quinn, Donna Quinn…"

Frowning, Sebastian put his arm around Winnie. "Nicola, it's just a piece of cake. When did you become so bitter? Apologize to Winnie."

I took a sip of my black coffee. "In that case, this plate of crumbs, along with everything else I don't want in this house, are hers."

Sebastian's face turned livid.

He stared at me for a few seconds before suddenly sneering. "Since you're so generous, let Winnie accompany me to the charity gala in Manhattan in three days."

I smiled and nodded in agreement. "Sure, then I'll trouble Winnie to take care of you for me."

Sebastian felt like he had punched a pillow. He loosened his tie in frustration and stormed off with Winnie.

Watching their car disappear at the edge of the manor, I turned around and went back to my bedroom, locking the door. From the most hidden compartment of my wardrobe, I took out a black handbag. Inside was a brand new passport and several bearer promissory notes from Swiss banks.

I walked to the fireplace. Without hesitation, I tossed the only photo of myself and Sebastian from the bedside table into the burning flames.

At dinner, George brought over a plate of black truffle foie gras, flown in from Paris. He said Sebastian had specifically called and ordered the chef to make it as an apology for the cake incident that morning.

Looking at the exquisite foie gras, I suddenly felt nauseous and dumped it straight into the trash can.

At 2 AM, my phone vibrated. It was a message from an encrypted number overseas.

[Nicola, everything is ready. The charity dinner in three days is your only chance to "disappear" completely.]

I stared at the words on the screen, my finger swiping across them lightly. There was no signature, but I knew it was Ethan Guillermo.

Ethan was the son of Corsa Guillermo, my late father's most trusted friend. He was also the current Don Guillermo and the only one who knew my plan.

I would be free in three days.