The Don Let My Son Fall to Save His Mistress

Chapter 4

This should have been the worst day of my life. My son was dead. I was broken and bleeding. I'd dragged myself here to say goodbye. And they were shoving me back out.

They beat me with sticks. They threw stones. They put a grieving mother through hell.

A bottle caught me across the forehead. Someone yanked my crutches away. I went down, and my blood ran into the dirt.

"Enough!" Lorenzo came charging in and put his own body between me and the rest of them. "Have you all lost your minds? Marcello's death was an accident. It wasn't Elena's fault. The next person who touches her answers to me."

His eyes went around the room. His men stiffened. Even the oldest soldiers dropped their eyes. He was the Don. The power was real. The crowd pulled back.

Lorenzo carried me upstairs, took out a medical kit, and cleaned my wounds himself.

I felt nothing. No gratitude. No love. Just cold.

"Lorenzo. It was Sofia who took Marcello to the cliffs. But your mother put it on me. Why?"

Lorenzo's hands went still.

"Elena. You know how hard Sofia's position in this family is. She's an outsider. They already hate her. If they found out she caused Marcello's death, she'd never survive it."

He paused.

"You're different. You're my wife. I can protect you. So take the blame. To make it right, I'll sign over half the family's arms trade to you."

He watched me, nervous.

He was braced for tears. For screaming. For accusations.

Instead my face stayed calm. Calm enough to scare him.

"Whatever you want. It doesn't matter to me."

I'd agreed. He should have been relieved. Instead something like dread started pounding in his chest.

"Elena, what I feel for Sofia is a sister's love, nothing more. We grew up together. I thought she was my real sister. Then it came out that she wasn't, and the whole family turned on her. She had nothing. I couldn't just abandon her."

"I understand." I kept my eyes down. "You don't have to explain."

Love was what needed explaining. I didn't love him anymore. I didn't need his reasons.

If he slept with Sofia right in front of me, I wouldn't ask a single question.

It made Lorenzo sick. I could see it in his face. He wanted to say more.

A maid burst in. "Don! Sofia came to pay her respects, but she ran into Gianna. They're fighting!"

Gianna De Luca was Lorenzo's real sister. She'd grown up in hell. Her adoptive father had abused her. She hated Sofia down to the bone now, and every time they crossed paths, she went after her.

Sofia never fought back. She'd just drop to her knees and cry.

So when Lorenzo heard Gianna and Sofia were fighting, he panicked and dropped my bandages.

"Elena, I have to get down there. Gianna will bring the whole house down."

He ran out.

I lay in the bed. It was absurd. Gianna was his own blood. She'd been beaten, abused, r***d. But the only tears Lorenzo ever ran toward were Sofia's fake ones.

Downstairs, Lorenzo planted himself in front of Sofia and shielded her from all of them.

Gianna was crying so loud I could hear it upstairs.

"Lorenzo, I'm your real sister! Why do you never protect me? Why is it always Sofia?"

"Don't you see it? You've done the exact same thing to Elena! Sofia's framed her a hundred times over and you never once caught it! That's why Elena's given up on you! She sees you for what you are now—someone who never loved her!"