Exposed to the CEO Behind the Mafia Mask (by Silver Spoon) novel Chapter 293

Chapter 293: Chapter 77 Desperate Exile

Dominic’s POV

The aphrodisiac Gemma had slipped into my whiskey hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest. My body spiraled into chaos with symptoms I couldn’t control—cold sweats drenching my shirt, heart hammering against my ribs like gunfire, and a painful erection that refused to subside. Something was seriously wrong. When Gemma retreated upstairs to our bedroom, I tore through the kitchen trash until I found the pill packet she’d carelessly discarded. Fury ignited in my veins like gasoline meeting flame.

But what cut deeper than any blade was her relentless pattern of running. I loved this woman with the devotion of a soldier to his Don, yet I was drowning in exhaustion from her endless psychological warfare. This "maybe I’ll forgive you, maybe I won’t" game was slowly killing me from the inside. If she planned to walk away from our blood bond permanently, I wished she’d put a bullet in my head instead of prolonging this torture.

I’d prostrated myself before her like a common street soldier, explaining my actions until my voice went hoarse and my pride lay in tatters. Yet she continued wielding my emotions like weapons, carving deeper wounds into my already scarred heart. I delivered my ultimatum with the cold finality of a family execution and stormed from our fortress, heading straight to our organization’s medical contact as my condition deteriorated rapidly.

At the private clinic that handled Thorne family emergencies, I fabricated some story about accidental ingestion during a business dinner. The treatment was barbaric—a stomach pump followed by an excruciating procedure to drain blood from my groin. The doctor hooked me to an IV and explained that these substances could trigger deadly reactions in certain individuals. He stressed that any future pharmaceutical assistance should only occur under proper medical supervision.

As if the heir to a mafia dynasty needed chemical enhancement for anything!

I endured a hellish night under clinical observation, completely isolated with only my dark thoughts for company. By dawn, bone-deep exhaustion had settled into my marrow. After discharge, I drove directly to the family marina, contacted our boat captain, and demanded an aimless voyage—just sailing without destination or purpose. The yacht became my sanctuary for the following day and night. Despite my physical and emotional wreckage, I had to confront the bitter truth: if Gemma wanted to abandon our blood oath, no amount of power or violence could change her mind.

When I returned to our penthouse the next morning, my phone was missing in action. I vaguely remembered powering it down after security reported Gemma’s return to our territory, then completely forgetting about it amid my drug-induced haze.

"Screw it. I’ll buy several more," I muttered, abandoning the search entirely.

After showering and donning a fresh suit, I purchased a replacement device before heading to Zenith Systems, our family’s money laundering front operation. I arrived late in the morning, already bracing for Zoe’s inevitable tongue-lashing.

"Dominic, what time do you call..." she began the instant I stepped off the executive elevator.

I stopped directly in front of her desk. "If you continue speaking, you’re terminated. Don’t push me today." My voice carried the arctic chill of a mob execution as I stalked into my office. Predictably, she followed within moments. "Dominic, you..."

"Zoe, not today! If it’s business-related, send a secure message. Otherwise, return to your station and stay there. I don’t want conversation today."

She retreated looking thoroughly chastened. I released a heavy sigh. My mental state was completely fractured, and she bore partial responsibility, having planted too many poisonous ideas in Gemma’s head while systematically tightening the noose around my throat.

While reviewing laundering reports, I realized I’d neglected several overseas accounts. Perhaps visiting our international operations would benefit both the organization and my deteriorating sanity. I began arranging a trip for the following week. The distance would provide necessary perspective.

Soon my encrypted phone started buzzing. Xavier called first.

"Brother, where the hell have you been? The entire family’s worried."

His concern sounded authentic.

"Handling business, Xavier..." I offered nothing more substantial.

"Want to discuss it?"

"Not now."

"When you’re ready, call me."

"Appreciated."