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Too Late, Mafia Don: I Am Free

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 646    |    Released on: Today at 18:58

nna

now felt charged, the air t

to fray as his legitimate busin

fractions, his dark temper a palpable fo

, deepening their public intimacy in a calcu

cks of books, my focus narrowed to my college applicat

f Domenico's loyal soldiers stood over my table

e Lyla had collapsed from what was

infirmary," he ordered, "ou

n look up fro

nico," I told the soldie

run out, and I am not a dog

jaw tightening, but he turned

broken mafia pact seemed to press

ces at me as I walked the halls, w

d after fi

ear the stairwell, moving with the pre

band of steel so tight I felt the im

shoulders hit the cold br

th hot and smelling of

defy my order

iming the stress of my defiance had

nd you will apologize to her," he o

tight, a knot

ll the nights I had spent correcting

into his pitch-bla

old him, my voice trembling not with fear,

ed slightly, his face

d ever spoken to him li

lative tears, telling Domenico to let me g

hardened again at th

d burned him and walked up the stairs

a gaze full of a profound

so wildly out of line," he coldly declared, "our

nothing to

l future Don and his

in complete, unwa

l our final exams, we

as finally, truly free. I should have known a man like Domenico w

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Too Late, Mafia Don: I Am Free
Too Late, Mafia Don: I Am Free
“For three years, I surrendered my nights and bartered my own prospects to build a flawless legitimate business empire for my fiancé, Domenico, the most feared heir in the mafia syndicate. But as I was finishing the final ledger to secure his seat as Don, a flight confirmation popped up on his phone. He had booked two first-class tickets to a high-level mafia summit in Sicily-for himself and Lyla, the girl who had been actively trying to destroy my life. When Domenico walked into the room, he didn't explain. Instead, he complained I was working too slowly. He used the threat of breaking our arranged marriage as a leash, demanding I finish his work. Lyla rushed in, playing the innocent victim, and Domenico immediately wrapped a comforting arm around her waist. He looked at me with cold, vacant eyes and issued his final ultimatum. "Apologize to her, and know your place, or you will be nothing to the Family." His soldiers sneered, waiting eagerly for me to crawl back and beg for the future Don's favor. I stared at the arrogant man I had sacrificed my youth for. The dutiful beat of my heart, which had hammered out a rhythm for him alone, simply went still. The great, heavy anchor of my loyalty dissolved into a strange weightlessness. I didn't shed a single tear. I calmly stood up, walked over to the industrial shredder, and fed every single page of his commercial blueprint into the blades. "The betrothal is dead," I told him, watching his future turn to confetti. "I owe neither of you a single word."”