My Ex-Fiancé Severed My Finger to Please His Lover Chapter 08
Three years later.
The De Luca family estate.
Sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows and across the living room carpet
Our daughter was chasing a golden retriever around the room.
Salvatore sat on the couch with a file in his hand, his brows slightly furrowed.
I walked over with two cups of coffee and handed him one.
“Still don’t want to tell me whether you were the one who sent that video back then?”
He accepted the coffee and stayed silent for two seconds.
“It was me.”
I nodded, not angry.
“I know.”
He looked up at me.
I smiled.
“I also calculated one thing.”
“What?”
“That day at the club, I wore that ring on purpose.”
He froze.
“I knew they would recognize it. I knew they would humiliate me, hit me, even cut off my finger. Because only then would you admit before everyone that I was your wife.”
“You used me?” His voice carried a dangerous edge.
“You used me first,” I said calmly. “We’re even.”
There was a long silence.
Then he laughed.
A rare, genuine laugh from the depths of his heart.
He put the file down and pulled me into his arms.
“Elena De Luca,” he whispered beside my ear, “you’re even more dangerous than I imagined.”
“Right back at you, Don Salvatore.”
Our daughter came running over and dove between us.
“Daddy and Mommy are hugging again! I want in!”
Salvatore laughed and lifted her over his head.
Sunlight stretched the shadows of the three of us long across the floor.
Outside the window, the New York sky was blue.
This family was dark.
But her guardian angel would never leave again.
