Quit the Mafia Crown, Took the Healer Scalpel Chapter 13

Quit the Mafia Crown, Took the Healer Scalpel Chapter 13

When Lina opened her apartment door and saw Dante standing there, her first instinct was to close it.

He put out a hand to stop it, the door slamming into his palm with a dull thud.

“Lina, I looked for you for three months.”

Red-eyed, stubbled, coat ruined. The proud Don was gone; a broken man stood at the door.

Lina looked at him, her voice flat. “What do you want with me? Didn’t you get the divorce certificate?”

“I regret it.”

“That’s your problem.” She took a step back, ready to close the door.

He blocked the doorway and wouldn’t leave.

The next morning, breakfast waited at her door: coffee, a sandwich, and a note reading, I was wrong.

She picked it up and threw it in the trash.

On the third day, the breakfast changed. A bacon sandwich, still steaming.

She threw it away too.

On the fourth day he waited downstairs, followed her to school and work, then trailed her home, silent.

Matteo was the first to explode.

That day, Matteo put an arm around Lina’s shoulders and raised his chin. “Old man, this is my girlfriend. Who

are you?”

Dante’s face went dark, his jaw tight.

Lina thought he would lose his temper, grab her and drag her away the way he used to.

But he didn’t.

He stared at the hand on her shoulder, looked away, and said hoarsely,

“Even if you’re her boyfriend, you can’t interfere with her normal social life.”

Lina looked at him in surprise.

Liam had noticed the uninvited guest too.

He stopped Dante at the hospital door, cold. “This is Europe, not New York. Your tricks won’t work here”

Dante looked at him and asked, “You’re a Russo?”

Liam said nothing.

Dante nodded, walked past him, and continued waiting on the road Lina took home from work.

He simply stayed, shamelessly.

Breakfast every morning. Waiting after work. Following ten steps behind. Lina ignored him; Matteo cursed

him; Liam warned him. He stayed anyway.

A week later, Lina was finally sick of him.

She stood at the door of her apartment and turned to face him. “Dante, what exactly do you want?”

“Let’s remarry,” he said, hopeful. “I swear, only you from now on. Everything in your name. I’ll make you rich.”

Lina laughed.

The smile was faint, but it stabbed Dante in the chest.

“You still don’t get it. I wanted money to save my grandmother, not out of greed. You made me a decorative wife, never asking what I wanted.”

Dante froze.

He thought about the past three months. No matter how the household staff worked, nothing felt right.

Shirts weren’t ironed smooth enough, the coffee was the wrong temperature, and three different chefs couldn’t recreate the taste.

And security… God, during that purge of his, he’d almost been assassinated by his enemies.

In all those moments he’d missed Lina, forgetting she was never meant to be trapped in household chores.

She should be shining in a career she loved, like now.

Dante lowered his head, his voice rough. “I’m sorry, Lina. I’m willing to be your manservant to atone.”

Lina shook her head. “I don’t need a servant.”

She paused, glancing at Matteo lurking in the distance, then at the dark grey figure standing on the street

corner.

“There’s a line of men waiting to court me. You can get in line.”

Dante looked up, eyes red. He opened his mouth, forcing the words out.

“Then I’ll be your lover.”

Lina froze.

She looked at him. The face that had once been so arrogant was now humbled, like a stray dog.

She said nothing.

She turned and closed the door.

The door panel shut in front of Dante with a soft click.

He stood at the door, staring at it, motionless.

Matteo sidled over, gloating. “Get in line, old man. There are a lot of people ahead of you.”