The Don Who Called Me Dirty, Begged Me Back Later Chapter 08

The Don Who Called Me Dirty, Begged Me Back Later Chapter 08

I looked at him. My eyes were empty. “You should 

have received the subpoena. Salvatore, between. 

us, there is only one option left. I will see you in 

court.” 

The Sterling Heights wind cut across my face like 

a blade. 

Salvatore stood at the bottom of the steps, staring 

at me. His chest heaved. “See me in court?” He 

laughed derisively, as if it were the biggest joke he 

had ever heard. 

“Elena. Do you really think you can beat DeLuca’s 

legal department?” 

He stepped closer. His voice softened into that 

familiar condescension. “Stop this. Come home. If 

you drop the lawsuit now, I will let bygones be bygones. You will still be my wife. The Donna of 

the DeLuca family.” 

I looked at him – so certain of his own generosity 

– and felt nothing but absurdity. “Let bygones be 

bygones?” I laughed out loud. “Salvatore. I am the 

one holding you accountable. Not the other way 

around.” 

His brow creased. He seemed genuinely offended by my ingratitude. “What exactly are you trying to prove? Is it about Bianca?” 

He took a deep breath, as if making a tremendous concession. “She is pregnant. The child needs a stable environment. Do not make this ugly. After she gives birth, I will give her enough money to leave. You can raise the child. Tell everyone it is yours. That way, no one will gossip about your fertility anymore.” 

I stood there. The blood in my veins turned to ice. 

This was his solution. Make me – the woman he had called dirty for three years – raise his mistress’s child. And expect me to be grateful for 

the dignity he was granting me. 

I looked at him. My stomach churned. “Salvatore. 

It is not that I cannot have children. You just make 

me sick.” 

Each word came out clear and deliberate. “What 

does her child have to do with me?” 

Salvatore’s face went dark. “Elena. You are coming home with me today.” 

He reached for me, intending to drag me into the 

car. 

His hand never reached me. Julian caught his wrist midair. His grip was iron. He shoved 

Salvatore back. “Mr. DeLuca. Show some respect.” 

Julian’s usual warmth had vanished. What remained was ice–cold warning. “Elena made herself clear. She does not want to see you.” 

Salvatore shook off Julian’s hand. His eyes were venomous. “This is between husband and wife. 

Stay out of it.” 

“Husband and wife?” Julian’s laugh was cold. “Mr. DeLuca, I believe the court summons in your hand makes things clear. You are in the middle of 

divorce proceedings.” 

“Elena is a core partner at my firm. It is my 

responsibility to protect my people from 

harassment.” 

Julian turned to me, his voice softening. “Elena. 

Get in the car.” 

I did not glance at Salvatore again. I turned and opened the passenger door. 

Julian walked around the hood and got into the driver’s seat. The engine started. 

Through the window, I saw Salvatore standing there. His face was ashen. His hands were 

clenched into fists at his sides. 

It was the first time he had been shut out. The first 

time he realized that his iron commands no longer meant anything to Elena.