I Died, And The Mafia Boss Went Crazy

Chapter 4

Victor getting into a fight at a bar over Sofia made the morning news.

His affairs had never hit the tabloid front pages before.

I took a cab to Clara's clinic. As the iron gates of the mansion swung open, camera flashes blinded me. Reporters had camped outside.

I walked past them. A young woman shoved a microphone in my face.

"Mrs. Rossi," she said loudly. "Do you have anything to say about your husband and Sofia?"

I stopped and looked at her. Behind her press badge, the corner of a student ID from South Mountain University peeked out of a plastic sleeve. She was Sofia's classmate.

"A married man cheats," I said. "A woman chooses to be his mistress. What exactly do you want me to say?"

The girl pulled the microphone back a few inches. She gripped it tighter and lifted her chin.

"But didn't you dump him when he was broke?" she asked. "Now he's made something of himself. He found true love with Sofia. You forced him to marry you and won't step aside. Aren't you the one bullying them?"

A metallic taste rose in my throat. I tried to swallow, but a violent cough tore through my chest.

Warm liquid dripped from my nose onto the collar of my white coat.

A few reporters stepped back. Someone at the back of the crowd let out a short laugh.

"Look at her," a voice muttered. "Mention it and she starts playing pitiful."

"Is that fake blood? She's desperate."

I raised my hand and wiped the blood off my upper lip with my thumb.

"I'm not faking," I said. "Believe what you want."

I opened the taxi door and got in.

*****

By the time I reached the clinic, the video of our conversation was trending.

Victor's press office released a statement 10 minutes later.

'I will never divorce. Leave my wife alone.'

I scrolled through the comments under the video. The statement didn't stop them.

A: [She won't divorce because she wants his money. She dumped him when he was poor. Gold digger.]

B: [Sofia is way better than this scheming bitch.]

I locked my phone and set it on Clara's examination table.

No one knew why I left him.

*****

I stared at the white walls of the clinic. I thought about the small, damp apartment where my mother died.

She coughed up so much blood that day. When she held my hand, hers was thin and cold.

She didn't ask me to make some noble sacrifice. She just understood the reality of this genetic disease. It would drain everyone around you. Destroy them.

"This illness will drag you down," she wheezed. "It'll drag down anyone who loves you. The medical bills. The endless suffering. The risk of passing it to your children. If you let love become a burden, it will turn into hate. Elena, if it gets too hard — let go of love. For someone like us, a quiet life is the best we can hope for."

I shook my head, crying. I told her Victor would never abandon me.

I couldn't bear to leave him. We had a future planned. Back then, he'd hold my hand even while sleeping. If I coughed once in the middle of the night, he'd jump up, not even stopping to put on shoes, to get me warm water. On winter nights with no heat, he'd stay awake and tuck my frozen feet into his clothes.

But Victor was out there hauling grain in the snow just to buy me a music box. He ate dry bread so I could have hot soup. If he stayed with me, the rest of his life would be drowning in my medical debt. He'd never leave the docks.

I didn't want to drag him down. So I broke up with him.

I just didn't expect him to do this to me. Even after loving each other the way we did — he still turned on me.