Farewell, My Don Chapter 02

Farewell, My Don Chapter 02

The other end of the line was silent for several seconds.

“…Are you serious? You loved him so much before, giving up so many opportunities for him. How could you suddenly…”

I smiled, my laughter sounding hollow. “I don’t love him anymore.”

After hanging up, I leaned against the car window and closed my eyes.

Everyone knew I loved Dominic enough to take a bullet for him, enough to lose myself.

But I was tired. Loving someone whose heart always belonged to someone else was simply too exhausting.

I first met him during my freshman year of university; he was the freshman representative.

Rumors about him flew everywhere—his family had immense power, and no one dared provoke them.

He himself was like a masterpiece from God, with an angelic face and a sculpted physique.

The entire auditorium erupted. The line of women wanting to date him could wrap around the globe three times.

I was one of those women.

But except for Amara, no one could truly enter his heart.

Amara was pampered, arrogant, and even somewhat cruel, yet Dominic held her in the palm of his hand.

They said Amara was Dominic’s only weakness.

His love for Amara was as long-lasting as my love for him.

Until Amara ran away from their wedding for the 99th time.

Amara called from Europe:

“Dominic, I’ve thought about it. Freedom is more important. Let’s not get married for now. I want to play around abroad for a few years first!”

This time, Dominic didn’t chase after her.

Dominic spent half a year in a drunken stupor.

Six months later, he began accepting the family’s matchmaking arrangements, meeting one daughter after another from various Mafia families.

But after every first meeting, there was never a follow-up.

Upon hearing the news, I used all my connections to find out where he was meeting them.

That day, I wore a dress in the same style as Amara’s.

When Dominic, who was waiting for his blind date, looked up and saw me for the first time, he froze.

His gaze lingered on my face for a long time, as if he were looking at someone else.

Just as I was about to drown in that soft light, he strode toward me and asked:

“Will you marry me?”

My heart hammered wildly.

But at the same time, it was sinking.

I knew it was despicable.

But I didn’t want to give up this opportunity I had engineered myself.

I agreed.

No one expected that Dominic Rizzo, the Don of the Rizzo Family, would marry a girl with no ties to the Mafia, no power, and no reputation.

After the wedding, he treated me well. Money, jewelry, designer clothes—he gave me everything a woman could want. But he never loved me.

Only when I dressed like Amara would he kiss me, embrace me, and lose his reason.

And when he reached his climax, he would whisper her name over and over: “Amara…”

I pretended not to hear.

I endured it for five years.

I thought I could go on deceiving myself like this forever.

But Amara came back. Right when I was three months pregnant.

She barged directly into Dominic’s mansion.

She looked down at me haughtily, her eyes full of contempt: “You’re Genevieve? The bitch who stole my place while I was gone?”

Her gaze swept over me like she was looking at trash.

I didn’t have the strength to argue.

I was in unbearable abdominal pain and just wanted to get to the hospital.

But when I tried to go around her, she grabbed me and wouldn’t let me leave. In the struggle, Amara was accidentally pushed to the ground by me, scraping her skin slightly.

Dominic, who had rushed home, locked me directly in the confinement room.

My stomach felt like it was being twisted by knives. I banged on the door, crying out over and over:

“Dominic… help me… the baby… our baby…”

My only response was dead silence.

I curled up on the cold floor, warm blood pooling between my legs.

My consciousness gradually blurred.

Until I sank into darkness.

When I woke up again, I was in a private ward at the family hospital.

Dominic stood by the bed, looking at me with a rare expression of guilt.

“It’s all my fault. We’ll have another child, Genevieve. I promise.”

“But you were too paranoid. Amara just wanted to vent her frustration. Even if you wouldn’t yield to her, you shouldn’t have pushed her. Luckily she only scraped her skin and didn’t bleed. She has a coagulation disorder; if she had really bled, both you and the child wouldn’t have been enough to pay for her life.”

“You’ve learned your lesson, and she’s agreed not to file a lawsuit.”

At that moment, I laughed.

I laughed until the tears came out.

That was the first and last time I cried in front of him.

That day, I felt a part of myself die.

I filed for divorce and also applied for a transfer.

Whatever happens between him and Amara, I no longer care.

Because I don’t love him anymore. Not one bit.