The Don's Most Bitter Fruit

During a firefight with a Mexican cartel, my squad was caught in a blast zone where ordinary bulletproof vests were useless.

I had come prepared. I always carried a custom-made vest that could even withstand a sniper bullet.

But when I opened my tactical bag, my fingers only found a cheap cross necklace.

I reached for my encrypted phone to call for backup.

That’s when my husband, Caspian Grimaldi—Don of the Grimaldi family—seized my wrist.

"Easy, darling. Don't do anything rash. I gave your vest to Sera. She's a fragile thing, and she needs it more than you."

I clutched the cross necklace, my fury a wildfire threatening to consume my sanity.

"Are you kidding me? This piece of junk is useless! I might as well be standing on the front line naked!"

He frowned, unrepentant. "Avalon Buckley, you are my wife. It's your responsibility to protect someone who has taken a bullet for me. Stop throwing a childish tantrum."

I sneered.

"I am your wife, not some selfless martyr. And that vest was custom-made for me by my father."

I didn't waste another breath arguing. Without a second thought, I crushed the family crest pendant—the symbol of our marriage—in my palm.

Then I turned to my assistant, my voice crisp and cold.

"Contact my lawyer immediately. I am formally filing for divorce. Effective immediately, all trust funds and business channels under my name associated with the Grimaldi family are to be frozen."

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1

Caspian Grimaldi's face darkened instantly.

He pointed a trembling finger at me, his voice a low growl. "Are you insane? Communications are open! What will the Consigliere and the Capos think if they hear you?"

He bent down, scrambling to pick up the scattered fragments of the crest.

The diamond ring I had given him, a symbol of our marriage, glinted coldly on his finger.

The other soldiers in the squad closed in, each eager to defend Sera Monroe.

She was on the rise lately, and everyone was desperate to get on her good side.

"Donna, you're being emotional. The Don meant well. How could you fly off the handle like that?"

"Exactly. It's Sera's first firefight. As the Donna, it's your duty to protect her."

I tried to speak, to explain, but my throat was so raw from the smoke that I couldn't utter a word.

Just then, Sera peeked out from behind Caspian, her eyes red-rimmed and pleading.

"Donna, please don't be angry with the Don. How about... I give the vest back to you? I feel a little unwell, but I'll be fine..."

The moment the words left her mouth, Caspian pulled her tighter into his protective embrace.

"Don't be foolish! She's just bullying a newcomer, throwing her family's weight around. She wasn't this 'delicate' when she was negotiating and seizing territory for us."

"Negotiating?" I stared at him, disbelief choking me like an invisible hand. "When I secured those channels under pressure from three other families, whose glory was I fighting for?"

Caspian's face soured.

"That was your choice. I never forced you. Besides, it was your duty as my wife. What, you expect me to thank you every day?"

After a beat, his chin lifted in arrogance.

"Sera saved my life. If anything happens to her, that will be on you."

The absurdity of it was breathtaking.

For this so-called savior, he was ready to sacrifice me. What debt could possibly outweigh five years of marriage?

The chemical smoke from the explosions grew thicker, the edges of my vision starting to blur.

My legs felt weak, and I had to lean against the cold edge of a metal container to stay upright.

In the damp fog, the ribs I'd broken years ago saving Caspian's life began to throb, a faint ache that seeped into my bones.

I stared at the two of them, wanting to rush forward, to scream at him, but only hoarse gasps escaped my throat.

One of the female soldiers exaggeratedly mimicked my rasping voice, then burst out laughing.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue? Weren't you so eloquent when you were staring down those old geezers at the conference table?"

A ripple of cruel laughter went through the crowd.

Caspian just stood there with his arms crossed, watching me with cold detachment, as if I were nothing but a hysterical fool.

"That's enough. Stop making a scene."

He grabbed the strap of my tactical vest and dragged me deeper into the warehouse.

"You stay here and cool down. We'll talk when this is over. Any more of this, and you'll disgrace the family. And me."

"This smoke... it's highly toxic..."

I grabbed his sleeve, my fingers trembling uncontrollably.