The Don’s Forgotten Wife Took Down His Empire Chapter 02

The Don’s Forgotten Wife Took Down His Empire Chapter 02

The air turned icy. The living room fell silent.

Damian’s face went cold, and he smirked. “Scarlett, are you kidding me? You’re threatening me with divorce over something this small?

“Back when your dad begged our family to take care of you, you weren’t so tough.”

It was like an invisible hand squeezed my throat, cutting off my breath.

Memories flickered through my mind.

My dad was the Moretti family driver, a trusted man of the old Don. Ten years ago, the old Don was ambushed by rivals, and my dad took a bullet for him.

On his hospital bed, old Don Moretti asked what he wanted.

With a weak breath, he said, “Take care of my daughter…”

Back then, Damian and I were childhood sweethearts. After I heard my dad died, he held me crying, promising, “Scarlett, I’ll take care of you forever. No one will ever hurt you as long as I’m here.”

But those promises were gone with the wind now.

“Damian, you’re the one killing me…”

Staring at the two of them cuddling, my heart ached. I forced down the bitterness rising in my throat.

When I didn’t speak, Damian stroked my hair like I was a pet.

“As long as you haven’t signed the divorce papers, you’re still my wife, and you follow the house rules.”

I knew it—if he didn’t agree, no lawyer in New York would take my case.

I had no choice but to try to run out the door.

But the moment I reached it—

Slap!

My cheek swelled instantly.

Serena and her people blocked me.

“I told you, the Moretti rules can’t be broken!”

Seeing her smug face, I couldn’t hold back. I lunged and grabbed her hair.

“Who the hell do you think you are! If anything happens to my mom, I’ll kill you!”

I wrapped my hands around her neck, but Damian kicked me across the room.

My head slammed into the corner of the table, pain so sharp I almost blacked out.

Damian held the trembling Serena and barked, “Lock her in the basement. Let her reflect what she’s done.”

The soldiers threw me into the basement.

No matter how hard I pounded on the door, no one answered.

I leaned against the door in despair, thinking of my mom in critical condition, and broke down sobbing.

Knock, knock, knock.

The door rattled.

Through the small window, a rough hand reached in.

“Mrs. Moretti, please eat something.”

It was Gina, the nanny who’d raised me like her own daughter.

“Gina, I’m begging you, let me out. I have to go to the hospital…”

“Mrs. Moretti, I can’t.”

Her voice was full of helplessness.

She rolled up her sleeve, revealing thin arms crisscrossed with scars.

The rules. Again, the rules.

“It’s okay… just pray for my mom.” I slumped to the floor, staring at the dry bread and bottled water in my hands.

Ever since Serena came to the Moretti house, she’d set my daily food budget at 50 bucks.

Fried chicken, bread, water—that was my life now.

While she made Damian take her to Michelin-starred restaurants every night.

I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. The wife of the New York Mafia Don lived worse than a stray dog on the street.