PRIDE AND LOVE

Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable

Tao Yaoyao

My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out. I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm: "In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling." Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped. When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself." Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son. The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne. I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie." I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare.

Modern Parenting Ex-wife Drama

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Kelvin's POV

It was supposed to be a peaceful Sunday morning.

I had barely gotten out of bed when loud cries shattered the silence. My mother's wailing echoed through the house, followed by the soft sobs of my younger siblings.

My heart skipped. What's going on? I thought, throwing off my blanket and rushing into the sitting room.

Something wasn't right. I could feel it.

Maybe... just maybe, my father had messed up again. He worked for a mafia group, not just any, but one of the deadliest in New York. And his boss, Lord Sampson, was known to be ruthless. Father had crossed him a few times before... but always managed to survive.

This time felt different.

"Good morning, Mother. What's going on? Where's Dad? Why are you all crying this early?" I asked, but my words fell on deaf ears.

She didn't answer. Instead, she stared at me with red, swollen eyes and broke into fresh sobs.

I turned to my siblings. "What happened?" I asked again, hoping at least one of them could talk. But they just looked down, weeping silently.

I moved closer to my mother and gently wiped her tears. "Please, tell me what's going on."

She struggled to speak, her voice cracking. "Your father... he's been taken. Lord Sampson's men came for him."

"What? Why?" I asked, confusion twisting in my chest. "They work together. I mean... they're partners, right?"

Her lips quivered. "They said he betrayed the group. Accused him of conspiring with an enemy. They dragged him away... said he'd be executed."

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

I knew the mafia world didn't forgive betrayal. And if Lord Sampson made the call himself... then it was already over.

My father had been with the gang for over two years, ever since he lost his job as a chef. Things changed fast after that. He became involved in shady deals, and suddenly, we had more money. But we also had more fear. We lived in constant hiding, watching our backs, dreading police sirens.

Now... the life he chose was about to claim him.

"Where is he now?" I demanded.

My mother looked at me, alarmed. "Kelvin, even if you knew, what could you possibly do? They're not men you go after. Not even the police dares to stop them!"

"I didn't ask for advice," I snapped. "Just tell me where he is."

She shook her head, overwhelmed, and shoved a folded paper into my hand.

I opened it, and my breath caught.

It was a blood pact.

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