The Don’s Throwaway Wife Chapter 01

The Don’s Throwaway Wife Chapter 01

A week before Christmas Eve, the whole of Brooklyn was placing bets.

Everyone wagered on whether I’d pull the lucky gold coin out of the box. Whoever drew it got to go home with Dante Maranzano for Christmas.

In the Maranzano Family, a woman wasn’t truly recognized as the Don’s wife until she sat through New Year’s dinner with the Don and the entire clan.

We’d been married five years, and I’d never once drawn that lucky coin.

I’d become the laughingstock of every underground bar in the borough.

This year’s winner was a club dancer.

She straddled Dante’s lap, tossing that gleaming gold coin down at my feet without a single care.

The whole room went dead silent.

They waited for me to lunge for her, claw at her face and tear out her hair, just like I had every year prior.

But I didn’t move an inch.

“Congratulations.”

He leaned close, lips barely brushing my ear. His tone oozed smug pride.

“Not bad tonight. Might finally learn how to act like a decent wife one day.”

I dropped my gaze, knuckles white around my phone.

He had no idea my five-year bet with Luca had just expired.

He’d be coming to take me home soon.

Cheers and lewd laughter filled the air as Dante fastened a two-million-dollar diamond bracelet around the dancer’s wrist.

It was the same piece he’d fought three other families to win at auction weeks earlier.

“Elara,” he’d grinned and promised me back then, “this bracelet’s going to be yours.”

Now it sat wrapped around a stranger’s arm.

A sharp, cold ache twisted my chest tight.

Dante caught the flicker of pain on my face. He pulled a necklace from his pocket and tossed it carelessly into my palm.

“Jealous again, huh? That bracelet’s the prize for the winner.”

“Still, you didn’t put up a fight tonight. Take this as a consolation gift.”

The uncut diamond on the chain had rough, jagged edges. It pricked my skin the second it touched me.

The dancer stumbled forward.

Her heel slipped, and a full glass of red wine sloshed straight down my face.

The room fell quiet once more.

Every single year, the woman chosen to go home pulled a stunt like this—testing me, taunting me.

She sank weakly to her knees at Dante’s feet, her dress slipping off one shoulder.

Murmurs rippled through the whole room as everyone watched the stunt.

“Mrs. Maranzano, I didn’t mean it! Pour the wine back on me, please—don’t hurt me!”

Dante shifted instantly, shielding her with his body, shoulders rigid.

I blinked slow, grabbed a napkin, and wiped the wine off my face at a leisurely pace.

“Stand up. It’s not your fault.”

“Those heels are too high. I’ll have someone bring you a pair of flats.”

Dante froze, one eyebrow shooting up in shock.

A secretary returned with the shoes, and I knelt down to slip them onto her feet myself.

My fingers brushed the bare skin of her neck as I unclasped the necklace and draped it around her throat.

“Fine jewelry belongs on beautiful women. You’re dining with the Don for New Year’s—you need something to command attention.”

Her eyes blew wide open.

Dante’s jaw clenched tight, fury blazing in his eyes.

“Elara, who said you could give away a gift I bought you?”

I held his stare unflinching.

“She’s not an outsider. Would you sit down to New Year’s dinner with someone who doesn’t belong?”

He had no retort, only a dark, smoldering glare.

Wine stains streaked my dress. I made an excuse to go change clothes.

His eyes tracked me every step until the door clicked shut.

Five Christmases spent alone crashed down on me all at once. A crushing pain stabbed my chest.

I’d barely finished changing when my phone buzzed.

A text from Luca lit up the screen:

[Elara. He didn’t take you home again. You lost the bet. Come back to us.]

My throat tightened up instantly, tears spilling before I could blink them back.

I hadn’t even typed a reply before cold hands wrapped tight around my waist.