The Don Who Called Me Dirty, Begged Me Back Later Chapter 04
I walked in and sat at the farthest seat from them.
Mrs. DeLuca kept piling food onto Bianca’s plate, beaming. “Eat up, darling. You are eating for two now. Cannot be too careful. Tell me what you are craving, and I will have the chef make it.”
Bianca thanked her dutifully, then touched her flat stomach and sighed. “Maybe I should just go. Today is Donna and Don’s anniversary. She must feel terrible. I should leave.”
Mrs. DeLuca did not even look up. She let out a cold laugh. “She has held the Donna position for three years and has not produced a single heir. If Bianca can carry on the family line, that is her ability. Some people cannot keep themselves clean and should know better than to overstay their welcome.”
It was the wound I had kept hidden for three years. The words hit me like a slap across the face.
I looked at Salvatore instinctively. He sat there, holding his wine glass, his face expressionless.
No defense. No objection. He just frowned slightly and said, “Ma, that is enough.” Not because he felt bad for me. Because the scene was awkward and might upset Bianca.
Bianca’s eyes welled up as she stood. “If Donna does not want me here, I will leave. I will not make things difficult for Don.”
Salvatore immediately set down his glass and looked at me with a warning in his eyes. “Do not go after her. She is in a fragile state.”
I had not said a single word from beginning to end.
I looked at the man I had loved for ten years.
Suddenly, I was exhausted. Even breathing felt heavy.
I unzipped my bag, pulled out the divorce agreement, and slid it across the table. “Sign it.”
The room went dead silent.
Mrs. DeLuca blinked, then scoffed. “A penniless former heiress playing hard to get. Trying to manipulate him?”
Salvatore’s eyes landed on the paper. He did not even read the contents. He just laughed. That arrogant, condescending laugh. “All this drama over this?”
He picked up the agreement and, right there in front of everyone, tore it in half. Then he dropped the pieces on the floor.
“Without the DeLuca name, where would you go, Elena? Who would take you in?”
His certainty sounded like an unshakable truth. “Stop playing games. First thing tomorrow, get Bianca’s prenatal checkup set up.”
Bianca immediately walked over, pretending to reach for my hand. “Donna, it is all my fault. Do not be mad at Sal.”
I stepped back instinctively.
Bianca let out a sharp scream and threw herself on top of me.
In the chaos, my bracelet hit the table corner and shattered.
I froze. Then I slowly crouched down to pick up the pieces. It was the only thing my mother had left me.
But Salvatore had already lunged over. He shoved me aside and helped Bianca up, his voice shaking. “Did you hit your stomach? Are you in pain?”
Bianca clung to him, weeping dramatically. “I am fine. Do not blame her. She did not mean it.”
Salvatore turned to me. His gaze was ice-cold. “Elena, if anything happens to this child, I will never forgive you.”
I held the shattered bracelet in my hands. The sharp edges cut into my fingers. Blood beaded on my skin.
I remembered what my mother said before she died: marry a man who will truly cherish you.
Once, I thought Salvatore was that man.
But I could not feel the pain anymore.
I stood up without looking at them again. I walked out of the private room.
Back at the villa, I called my assistant to handle my belongings. I only took my documents and a few changes of clothes. I dragged my suitcase out of the DeLuca estate.
It had started raining. The water soaked through my hair and clothes.
My phone screen lit up. A message from Salvatore.
“When you are done throwing your tantrum, come home.”
I stared at the arrogant message. I deleted it. Then I blocked him.
A taxi pulled up in front of me. “Airport, please.”