u/Individual_Strike580

Looking for a free link, please and thank you

“Where is my wife?” Lucas tried to sound nonchalant.
“Luke, it’s been 2 weeks. I don’t know what to tell you. The woman is a ghost.” Alan sighed.
"I'm not obsessing." Lucas muttered defensively, seizing Sarah's plain wedding ring off the nightstand. There wasn't even a single diamond chip on. Why did she never ask him for some jewelries?
“Oh yeah? You moved into the villa you avoided for 3 years. You are sleeping in the bed you refused to share with her. Every morning you ask me if I found her. You ARE obsessing. But why? You never paid any attention to your contact-married wife, so why now?”
“...Why did she leave?”
"Why should she stay?" Alan said bluntly. "We're only surprised Sarah didn't leave you sooner. She was completely ignored by her husband for 3 years. And you keep cheating on her and making her a laughing stock to everyone."
“What?! I didn’t cheat!”Lucas sputtered.
“Really?” Alan’s eyes narrowed, “You show up to galas with her in the same plain, black gown and won’t even look at her. Then you take Madeline shopping for designer dresses and jewelry before showing up to places with her hanging off your arm like some giggly school girl going to her prom. How could people not think you’re having an affair?”
“I never touched her! My sister Lidia is the one I take shopping. Madeline just tags along.”
“And the difference being?” Alan rolled his eyes.
Taking out his phone he called up several pictures before handing it over. Lucas looked at the screen and paled. The images showed him with Madeline trying on dresses, modeling dresses for him, picking out a new necklace, even attending various events hanging off his arm as Alan said.
Alongside were headlines reading: A Night Out But Where’s Missus Stanton? Say Hello to the Soon-to-Be Missus Stanton Two!
“Who the hale did this?!” Lucas said in his fury, then panic climbed in: Had Sarah seen these toxic stories painting her as a powerless fool? Had she believed them?!
“These are the articles the Eagle and others have been publishing for the past two years,” Alan showed more images. “And these are the tamer headlines. Luke, for 3 years your wife was publicly mocked across the country and snubbed by society.”
“Snubbed? What do you mean?”
“She hardly received any invitations to any events from anybody.”
Lucas’s brow furrowed. “What about the Mixer and the New Year’s Gala and…”
“Those were invitations you received, not her.”
"That's absurd," Lucas sputtered. "They dare do that to a Stanton?"
“Because everyone knew she meant nothing to you and no good would come of being friendly with her. They just followed your lead. I’m surprised she stayed as long as she did,” Alan sighed deeply. “I don’t know any woman who would have stayed half that long unless…unless she really did love you.”
Lucas paled. Could it be true? Did Sarah have genuine feelings for him? How? When? Why didn’t she say anything?
"Find her, Alan," Lucas rasped, finally meeting his friend's knowing gaze. "Spend whatever it takes, tap every resource - just bring Sarah home."

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Hey guys, looking a for a free link to read, excerpt taken from an instagram post!

My mafia boyfriend, Dante Caruso, shared my birthday. I used to think it meant fate. That night, while he was busy handling a purge against a rival family, he texted me: “Amore, close your eyes for thirty seconds. Your gift is on its way.” I smiled, counted, and opened my eyes. What arrived wasn’t flowers or jewelry. It was a video of Dante tangled with Camilla, Chicago’s most notorious socialite. Every sound was clear. Every movement undeniable. So I deleted the love note I had been writing and sent him my own birthday gift: “We’re over. I’m going to become another family’s Donna.”

My mafia boyfriend, Dante Caruso, shared my birthday.

I used to think that meant fate.

That night, he was supposed to be busy wiping out a rival family, so I didn’t expect much. Then his message came.

“Amore, close your eyes for thirty seconds. Your gift is on its way.”

I smiled like an idi0t and counted.

Thirty seconds later, I opened my eyes.

It wasn’t flowers.

It wasn’t jewelry.

It was a video.

Dante and Camilla.

Tangled together.

Every breath, every sound, every movement was clear enough to destroy me.

Camilla. The socialite I had protected. The woman who played helpless in front of him and called him her savior.

My half-written love note sat on the screen.

I deleted it.

Then I typed two lines.

“Perfect timing. My birthday gift to you is a breakup.”

“I’m going to become another family’s Donna.”

Ten minutes later, Dante stood outside my door.

Black suit. Cold confidence. Full Caruso entourage behind him.

His Capo.

His consigliere.

His men.

Every one of them holding a red rose, like this was some romantic apology staged for a queen.

Dante looked almost amused.

“In six months, you’ll be Donna of the Caruso family. What other outfit in Chicago would dare touch you?”

He thought I was bluffing.

He thought I was jealous.

He thought I would cry, scream, then crawl back into his arms.

Then Camilla stepped out from behind him.

She had my shawl around her shoulders.

The one I gave Dante two Christmases ago.

And on her skin—

fresh marks.

A whole map of what they had done before coming here.

She looked at me with w.et eyes and said, “Elena, after my ex hurt me, Don Dante comforted me. First he held me. Then he kissed me. Then… it happened.”

Many times.

Then she asked me why I couldn’t be more understanding.

I laughed.

“Does comfort always look like sleeping with another woman’s fiancé?”

That was when Dante snapped.

He grabbed the gold lighter from my hand and hurled it to the floor.

The lighter I had spent three weeks engraving for his birthday.

Scripture.

A tiny Madonna.

A prayer to keep him safe.

It shattered at his feet.

And he looked at me like I was the cruel one.

“You want to know why I ended up with Camilla?” he said.

“Because she’s soft. Gentle. Feminine.”

“You? You’re hard. Ruthless. Always training like you’re preparing for war.”

I stood there, silent.

He had forgotten.

I became strong because weakness almost got us killed.

I became ruthless because I once watched enemies come for us when we had nothing.

I became war-ready because I loved him enough to survive beside him.

And now he hated the woman his world had made.

So I turned toward the door.

His hand caught my wrist.

“Two choices,” Dante said.

“Stay tonight and pretend this never happened.”

“Or walk out with all that junk.”

Junk.

The memories I brought for our birthday.

The gifts.

The years.

The proof that we had once built an empire together.

I looked at him.

Then at Camilla.

Then at the broken lighter on the floor.

And for the first time that night—

I smiled.

Because Dante still didn’t know.

I hadn’t just threatened to become another family’s Donna.

I had already said yes.