I Faked My Death to Escape the Mafia Don After My Daughter Died Chapter 01

I Faked My Death to Escape the Mafia Don After My Daughter Died Chapter 01

Everyone in the Italian mafia world knew Don Vittorio Rizzuto, the absolute ruler of Cosa Nostra, had lost his mind over love.

He had forced a plane to stop just to drag Giovanna Ricci, who had vanished for three years, back to his side.

After forcing her to remarry him, he threw everything he had into pleasing her.

Jewelry flowed into her bedroom like water, and the Louis XIV roses she loved most filled the entire garden.

But Giovanna, who had once been so easy to coax, seemed unable to feel that violent wave of love at all.

She tore up every letter Don Vittorio Rizzuto wrote by hand.

She casually gave priceless jewelry to the maids.

Even the roses blooming so beautifully in the garden were burned to ash by her own hand.

At noon, with the sun blazing overhead, Don Vittorio Rizzuto walked into the room with a dark expression.

He wore a custom suit, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, his posture tall and sharp.

For seven straight years, that face had ranked first on Italy’s national magazine list of “Most Beautiful Don Faces.”

But now, cold fury sat heavily over those sharp, deep features.

He grabbed Giovanna by the throat, his movement brutal, yet his voice trembled.

“How long are you going to keep this up? It’s been three years. Do you still hate me that much?”

Giovanna laughed.

She laughed until her eyes turned red, until tears slid down her face.

She asked, “Three years? Ansela has only been dead for three years. How could I not hate you?”

Vittorio went rigid.

Three years ago, Sicily had been shaken by a kidnapping case that shocked the entire country.

Two children had been tied to opposite sides of a bridge.

The kidnappers strapped cutting-edge STYX-44 bombs to them and laughed wildly as they forced Vittorio to choose.

The usually cold, steady Vittorio’s eyes had turned red as he clutched Giovanna’s hand.

“Wife, you’re Sicily’s most brilliant bomb disposal expert. Save that boy.”

Giovanna glanced at the two blindfolded children and frowned.

“The bomb on the girl has less time left. I should save her first.”

With a thud, a woman dropped to her knees in front of Giovanna, her eyes filled with grief.

“Giovanna, please. I can’t lose my son.”

Giovanna had seen this woman in the photos on Vittorio’s phone.

She was Serena Conti, the first love Vittorio had loved fiercely in his youth and then lost with regret.

Giovanna’s heart lurched, and she looked at Vittorio.

“Yes… that’s my child. I only found out recently.” Vittorio’s voice was hoarse. “We can talk about apologies later. I’m begging you. Save him first.”

Giovanna staggered back under the impact.

“No matter who he is, I can’t violate my professional principles…”

Vittorio took a deep breath, suddenly drew a Beretta 92FS, and pressed it to his temple.

Giovanna’s voice stopped at once.

“Save him first, or I’ll die right in front of you.”

Seeing that she still hadn’t moved, Vittorio curled his finger around the trigger and stared at her, ready to pull it.

“No!”

Giovanna’s pupils shrank, and she lunged forward to snatch the gun away.

She compromised.

On that bridge, for the first time, she betrayed her own professional ethics and quickly saved the boy.

The instant the bomb on the boy stopped counting down, the kidnapper burst into laughter.

“Vittorio Rizzuto, how does it feel to choose between your two biological children? I want you to rot in hell forever.”

Giovanna’s eyes widened, and she turned back in panic.

The kidnapper yanked the hood off the girl’s head, revealing a face Giovanna knew better than her own.

It was her daughter, Ansela.

The little girl’s eyes were dazed. Her lips parted.

“Mommy…”

The next second, the explosion sounded.

Flames shot into the sky.

In a few short breaths, nothing was left.

From then on, Giovanna disappeared from Vittorio’s world.

Vittorio went insane and searched for her for three years.

Now, hearing her mention Ansela, pain nearly spilled out of his eyes.

He released her throat and begged almost helplessly.

“After I found out Serena leaked Ansela’s information to my enemies, I sent her to prison. I made her pay.”

“Ansela won’t come back, but we can still have children. Forgive me, okay?”

The powerful Don of Cosa Nostra could only stand there, powerless, begging for mercy.

Giovanna’s eyes moved slightly.

She did not answer, but she also did not reject him as harshly as before.

A sudden light flared in Vittorio’s eyes.

“I’ll take that as yes. Giovanna, I knew you couldn’t bear to leave me.”

“You… wait here. I’ll go buy your favorite cannoli.”

He seemed so happy he had gone mad, unable to find another way to celebrate, and rushed out in a few quick steps.

Giovanna wiped away the tears at the corners of her eyes, her expression cold.

She picked up the car keys and quietly followed him.

She watched Vittorio turn past two streets and enter an exquisitely decorated apartment.

Then he embraced the woman who threw herself into his arms.

“Don’t worry. Giovanna has already forgiven you. She won’t make trouble for you.”

Vittorio stroked Serena’s long hair, his voice gentle.

Serena looked at him with longing, her tone sorrowful.

“I owe her a life. However she wants me to repay it, I should. I just pity Dario. He can only be an illegitimate child without a name or status.”

Pain appeared in Vittorio’s eyes, and he held her tighter.

“My wife can only be Giovanna, but I won’t mistreat you or Dario.”

“Dario will be my only son. After I’m gone, he’ll inherit Cosa Nostra.”

Outside the door, Giovanna had already prepared herself, but her whole body still turned cold.

This man was full of lies.

Hadn’t he said he sent Serena to prison?

Hadn’t he just promised that he would have another child with her?

She should never have held on to hope.

Back at Villa Rizzuto, Giovanna made a call.

“He found me. Maybe only my death will make him let go.”

“Please arrange a fake death for me. One month from now.”

“I want Vittorio Rizzuto to watch me jump into the river with his own eyes.”