The Mafia Don’s Contract Wife Chapter 07

The Mafia Don’s Contract Wife Chapter 07

A cool breeze washed over me, and for two seconds, my 

mind went completely blank. 

It took a moment for his meaning to sink in. When it 

did, I immediately looked away, uncomfortable. 

“That night… it was just an accident. You don’t have to 

dwell on it.” 

Vincenzo arched an eyebrow, his tone laced with subtle 

amusement. 

“An accident?” 

“Aren’t marital duties supposed to be fulfilled?” 

I fell speechless. 

Never in a million years had I imagined the drunk words I’d slurred that night would come back to haunt 

me like this. 

I silently thanked the broken lights–at least the darkness could hide my burning cheeks. 

Vincenzo pressed on, “I never saw it as an accident. And I have been dwelling on it.” 

I clutched the plate tightly, forcing my voice to sound steady. 

“Don, our contract expired.” 

Vincenzo said nothing, taking two steps closer. 

The distance shrank abruptly. I could smell the crisp fir 

scent of his cologne, mingled with the cool crispness of 

the late autumn night. 

“Are you planning to leave me hanging after what 

happened?” 

As he spoke, his eyes were dark and calm, like 

bottomless black pools. 

My heart thundered in my chest, and I suddenly found 

myself lost for words. 

His voice dropped even lower, “Is there something 

you’re dissatisfied with?” 

Behind one difficult question always lay an even harder 

one. 

I stood there, awkward and fidgeting, when the terrace 

door suddenly slammed open. 

“Serena! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere 

for you-” 

Ryan’s voice burst in like a gust of wind, then trailed 

off abruptly as he took in the scene. 

His gaze darted back and forth between Vincenzo and 

1. me. 

“Don Santini, you’re here too.” 

“You two…” 

Taking advantage of Vincenzo’s slight shift, I quickly squeezed past him, grabbed Ryan’s arm and hurried 

out without looking back. 

It wasn’t until the car had driven out of the Conti 

family estate that Ryan finally found his voice. 

He stared at me, opening and closing his mouth a few 

times before finally blurting out, 

“Serena, you and Don Santini…” 

“Were you two arguing just now?” 

I was distracted, “No.” 

“Then what were you doing?” 

“Nothing.” 

Ryan didn’t believe me for a second. 

“Then why did Don look at me like he wanted to kill 

me? I’ve never even offended him!” 

“Am I going to get blacklisted?” 

“I just started to gain some fame!” 

I sighed silently. 

My phone vibrated in my bag. 

I pulled it out to see a photo from Vincenzo. 

On his study desk, the divorce papers lay calmly on the 

desk, with only two words scrawled in the husband’s 

signature line: Not divorcing. 

I stared at those two words, dumbfounded for a long 

while. 

Suddenly, I couldn’t make sense of what Vincenzo 

wanted. 

He’d been the one eager to divide the assets first–so what was this sudden change of heart? 

Back home, the more I thought about it, the angrier I 

got. 

Why did he get to decide when we divorce or not? 

I grabbed my phone and replied to his message: 

[The contract states we divorce after two years, and I 

receive the agreed compensation.] 

[Is the Don trying to back out of the deal?] 

After sending it, I slammed the phone face–down on 

the coffee table. 

A minute later, it vibrated twice. 

It was a bank transfer notification–sixty million 

dollars. 

Double the amount specified in the contract. 

Vincenzo’s message followed right after: 

[My apologies for breaking the contract. This is 

liquidated damages.] 

【We can negotiate if it’s not enough.]