30 Days Before Divorce: Mafia Don’s Regret Can’t Win Me Back Chapter 07

30 Days Before Divorce: Mafia Don’s Regret Can’t Win Me Back Chapter 07

Day twenty-three of the waiting period.

Elena told me Andrea found the hospital where I’d been getting my checkups.

He must have used the Camorra family’s underground channels and connections, tracing the watermark on the ultrasound image back to the address.

He sat quietly in the outpatient lobby all morning.

The nurses on duty recognized my name. They all remembered the young mother who always came to her appointments alone.

They told him nothing.

“Sir, I cannot disclose any patient information.”

He sat there from nine in the morning until two in the afternoon. Security finally asked him to leave.

Day twenty-four.

Riccardo called again. “Chiara. Don Giuliano walked.”

“What do you mean?”

“He said he’s terminating all partnerships with the Camorra family. Said there’s no one reliable watching over things in Caserta, and he’s not comfortable with that. Eight million. Gone.”

Riccardo continued, “Andrea’s been calling Don Giuliano like a madman.”

“And Don Giuliano just said, ‘You can’t even keep your own Donna. Why would I trust you with the biggest port in Sicily?'”

I said nothing.

Riccardo went on. “And it’s not just Don Giuliano.”

“Last week a new family came in to discuss a partnership. Asked if the female consultant was available. The secretary said no. They walked out on the spot.”

“Chiara, do you know who they meant by the female consultant? It’s you.”

I knew. But Andrea didn’t.

He thought those families came to negotiate because of him. All the partnerships, all the loyalty, all the glory, he believed it was a tribute to his own ability.

What he didn’t know was that after every meeting ended, I was the one who followed up and locked down the details.

He didn’t know that every single proposal that sailed through approval in one round was the product of me working until dawn.

Now I was gone. And all that invisible support left with me.

The Camorra family’s operations were still running. But something essential was missing.

Day twenty-five.

Andrea sent my father a long message.

My dad didn’t reply. He just forwarded me the screenshot.

The message read: [Mr. Russo. I know I was wrong. But Chiara is carrying my child. Please, tell me where she is.]

My dad texted me: [Do you want to go back?]

I replied: [No.]

Then another message came through: [You’re doing the right thing, sweetheart.]

That night, I cried. For the first time through all of this.

Not for Andrea. For my father’s quiet, steady support. “You’re doing the right thing.”

Three years of marriage, and no one had ever said that to me.

Day twenty-seven.

AURA Consulting Group signed its second client. A well-known luxury brand promotion project.

Elena was in the conference room shaking hands with the client while I sat in the office, one hand bracing my lower back.

Thirty-six weeks. My belly looked like I was carrying a watermelon.

The secretary beside me kept stealing glances.

Finally, she couldn’t help herself. “Ms. Russo, are you… about to have the baby? Do you need to rest?”

Elena shot her a look. “Ms. Russo will rest when she decides to rest.”

I heard that and let out a faint smile.

Then the tightening came again.

With the due date approaching, Braxton Hicks contractions had been getting more frequent.

The doctor told me not to worry. It was normal.

I took two deep breaths and the tension slowly eased.