The Don’s Throwaway Wife Chapter 06

The Don’s Throwaway Wife Chapter 06

Luca threw open the car door and hauled me into his arms.

“Elara! What are you wearing? What happened to you? That bastard Maranzano-what did he do?”

I collapsed against his chest, tears streaming down my face.

“Luca… take me home.”

His arms tightened around me, his voice shaking with unbridled rage.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner. He’s gonna pay for every bit of this.”

Warmth seeped back into my skin inside the car. My muscles relaxed, and exhaustion pulled at my

eyelids.

Luca’s fingers brushed my swollen, blackened frostbitten hands, his throat tight. “Your hands…

Elara, how could he do this to you?”

I stared out the car window.

One year loving him, four years chasing him, five years married to him.

Here, I’d been the joke everyone whispered about.

Back home, I’d been the respected daughter of a powerful family, my name splashed across society

pages every week.

“Luca,” I whispered softly, “get me a divorce from him.”

I stared down at my scarred, broken hands and closed my eyes.

At that exact moment, a white van rolled past the spot where I’d been huddled minutes earlier.

Four huge men climbed out. Their leader held up a printed photo of me to a street vendor.

“You seen this woman? Don Maranzano’s looking for his wife.”

The vendor squinted at the picture. The face looked familiar… but the glamorous woman in the photo bore no resemblance to the freezing beggar he’d watched hours before.

He shook his head.

The lead enforcer sighed and dialed his boss.

“Don, we’ve searched all day. No sign of her anywhere.”

On the other end of the line, Dante sat with the old Don, watching Mia dance on stage.

He scowled, irritation thick in his tone.

“Forget it. If she wants to freeze to death out there, let her.”

He hung up, his mood sour.

The Don’s mother shot him a sharp, furious glare.

“Enough, Dante. Think about how many women you’ve dragged through this house. Marriage isn’t some cheap game!”

“Elara’s jealous because she loves you. The Moretti Family’s backed ours time and time again. You can’t treat an ally’s daughter like garbage.”

“I want great-grandchildren, Dante.”

Dante’s chest twisted with unease, his gaze drifting back to Mia swaying on stage.

She was soft, obedient, eager to please.

Maybe after tonight, he’d settle down and stop chasing every woman that crossed his path.

“Quit worrying, Nonna. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Over dinner, his mind wandered back to Elara nonstop.

She hated the cold. Was she safe?

A gnawing dread settled heavy in his bones.

He remembered their first New Year’s together. She’d spent hours baking messy, uneven butter tarts just for him.

“I’m sorry, it’s my first time making them… I’ll do better next year, I promise.”

The memory of her shy smile made his pulse spike. A terrible, sinking premonition crashed over

him.

He shot to his feet and grabbed his car keys.

Mia snatched her coat and hurried after him.

“Don, you’ll catch a chill!”

He ran every red light all the way back to the mansion.

No trace of her anywhere.

Rage erupted, and he slammed his fist hard against the steering wheel.

She had nothing-no cash, no phone, no ID. Where could she possibly go?

Mia leaned forward, dabbing sweat off her forehead with a handkerchief.

Dante’s eyes landed on her pale neck.

Maybe he could wait a little longer to search.

He parked the car and dragged her back inside the estate.

The front door barely clicked shut before a baseball bat slammed into his knee, dropping him straight to the floor.

Agony ripped through him. He lifted his head to snarl insults-

Only to see Don Luca Moretti sitting in the shadows.