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Too Late For The Mafia Don's Regret

Chapter 5 

Word Count: 833    |    Released on: 25/12/2025

e wer

ugh the sterile air. She was adjusting my

He looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. Here stood the great D

e nurse snapped, checking the monitor with ef

Dante replied,

hand. Instinctivel

t," I

pping an octave into that famili

I asked, ignor

ella is in the psychiatric wing. She's.

" I stated flatly, staring at th

aking into his voice. "She's fragile, Elara. She wasn't raised

cked her in

make sure s

ed against the

sighed, the sound he

aid, reading the message. "Th

the conflict warring behind his eyes. But the

sn't the

" I

ed, already stepping back.

ther," I

ction of a second, the

exactly o

r the side. The pain in my ribs was blinding, immediate-like a hot knife twisti

e for support, my kn

alk

ast the nurses' station. They were too swamped with

le signs pointing to

The air smelled less like anti

e partially open, slicing the ro

n my IV pole, breathing through

a was curled up in his lap, sobbing i

r. He was whispering things I couldn't hear

I'm not leaving

eaking in low tones. I moved slightly

r was explaining to Dante. "She needs an emot

argument. "Prep the jet. As soon as she's cleared, I'm

d. *Project

he house he had design

a call, his demeanor shifting ins

e, his voice cold and lethal. "If he came anywhere near that re

issed the top of

ched

loved fiercely. He loved with a protective, c

didn't

gation. She wa

ss of the window. Pale skin. Hosp

d like

I was to him. A ghost

the IV po

ting, but the pain in my chest-the heavy, suffoca

th the death of hope came

my room, each ste

the imaginary

us t

ive poi

wait for zero anymore. The math was bec

i + Elara Ro

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Too Late For The Mafia Don's Regret
Too Late For The Mafia Don's Regret
“I kept a ledger to track my marriage to the most feared man in Chicago. Loyalty started at one hundred. Every time Dante looked through me to stare at his mistress, Isabella, I subtracted one. Every time he left our bed to answer her calls, I subtracted five. The day the score hit zero, I was lying in a secret clinic, bleeding out. I had been in a severe accident. I was pregnant, and the hemorrhage was critical. But the nurse, eyes red with weeping, told me they couldn't give me the blood transfusion I needed. Dante had ordered the clinic's entire supply of O-negative blood to be reserved for Isabella. She had a bruised knee and was "in shock." He prioritized her comfort over his unborn child's life. I lost the baby. I left the ledger on his desk with a final note: *You bought her comfort with your heir's blood. Score: 0.* Then, I vanished. Two years later, Dante found me at a gala in Seattle. The ruthless Capo dei Capi, a man who never bowed to anyone, fell to his knees in front of hundreds of people. He begged, tears streaming down his face, claiming he had made a mistake, that I was his only true love. I looked at him, then at Julian, the man standing beside me who treated me like a queen. I pulled my hand away from Dante's grip and smiled coldly. "Apologies don't fix dead things, Mr. Moretti. Go back to your grave."”