The Don's Orphan Wife Is A Mafia Empire Princess (Elara) novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After Giovanni disappeared with Bianca, he was gone for an entire week.

During those seven days, the underworld of Sicily hummed with gossip. Word spread that the Don had taken his new favorite out to sea for the annual yacht gathering-and that the title of Isabella would soon change hands.

My phone never stopped vibrating.

Bianca sent the first private photo: herself stretched lazily on the deck of a luxury yacht, wrapped in a bikini so minimal it barely counted as clothing.

The caption read: **[The Don says only ocean blue suits my eyes.]**

The second image followed soon after-a man’s hand rubbing ointment along her inner thigh. The pinky ring on that hand, the symbol of the Don’s absolute authority, burned into my vision.

The caption read: **[I bumped into something. The Don insisted on treating it himself. He worries too much about me.]**

I stared at the images and felt no pain, no jealousy-only a lifeless numbness, like ashes settling in my chest.

I had already packed everything. The final step was to hand over the documents transferring the family’s core authority and get Giovanni’s signature. Once that was done, this family would no longer have any hold on me.

I traced the yacht’s docking location and drove there without delay.

The guards on deck recognized me and stepped aside without daring to interfere. Documents in hand, I walked straight to the main cabin and pushed open the half-closed door.

Inside, Bianca-still dressed in that revealing bikini-was sitting on Giovanni’s lap, her arms looped around his neck in a pose

far too intimate to misinterpret.

The moment the door opened, Bianca shrieked. She scrambled off him in panic, grabbing a shirt to cover herself, her face

flushing crimson as she rushed to explain.

“Elara! Don’t-don’t misunderstand! The Don is hurt. I-I was only helping dress the wound on his chest!”

Giovanni merely frowned. He hadn’t even bothered to push her away.

He lifted his eyes to me, irritation clear in his gaze.

“Aren’t you busy throwing a divorce fit? Why follow me all the way to the yacht?”

I gave a short, icy laugh and tossed the folder onto the table.

“What? If I hadn’t come, how would I know first aid now requires a bikini?”

Bianca shrank behind Giovanni, biting her lip as if wronged.

“Elara, how could you say something like that… I was just trying to help…”

Giovanni’s expression darkened. He rose abruptly, blocking Bianca from view, and cut me off with impatience.

“Enough, Elara. How long are you planning to drag this out?”

He lit a cigar. Smoke curled lazily through the cabin as his face settled into cold entitlement.

“Look at you. You’re acting hysterical. In my position, which Godfather doesn’t keep women on the side? It’s nothing but physical indulgence-why are you making such a fuss?”

He stepped closer, looking down at me as though granting charity.

“No matter who I touch outside, you’ll always be my only Isabella. That title-wasn’t that the glory you wanted most? Isn’t that enough for you?”

I stared at the man I had loved for years and realized I no longer recognized him.

“Glory?” I echoed softly, then let out a hollow laugh.

“Giovanni, I don’t want that glory anymore.”

This is the asset division and authority transfer,” I continued evenly. “Sign it. Once you do, I’ll leave and stop interrupting your… wound treatment.”

Giovanni paused, irritation flashing across his eyes.

“Fine. Perfect. Since you want to play this game, I’ll indulge you.”

He didn’t bother reading a single line before signing his name.

“Take your things and disappear. But don’t worry-you won’t last three days before crawling back, begging me to take you in again.”

I left the marina with the signed transfer documents and returned to the estate to collect the last of my belongings.

I had lived in that house for three years, yet what truly belonged to me fit into one suitcase.

I packed a few worn clothes and a photo album. Not a single piece of jewelry came with me.

Just as I snapped the suitcase shut, the bedroom door flew open with a violent kick.

Giovanni stormed in, his face twisted with fury. He crumpled a piece of paper in his fist and slammed it into my face.

“Elara! What did you do to Bianca?!”

The sharp edge sliced across my cheek, leaving a burning sting.

I looked down. It was a handwritten letter.

**[Don, I’m leaving. Elara warned me that if I don’t disappear, she’ll kill my parents. I don’t want to put you in an impossible

position, and I can’t let my parents die. Please take care of yourself.

-Bianca]**