After Amnesia, I Thought My Mafia Ex-Husband Was My Boss Chapter 08

After Amnesia, I Thought My Mafia Ex-Husband Was My Boss Chapter 08

I began packing. In truth, there wasn’t much 

to pack. Very few things in this estate truly 

belonged to me. 

The expensive gowns and jewelry in the 

closet meant nothing to me. 

I didn’t want any of them. 

I only took a few changes of clothes. 

And the diary. 

Before leaving, I left a note on the dining 

table. 

“Mr. Moretti, thank you for taking care of me during this time.” 

“I found a new job. Starting today, I quit.” 

“You don’t need to pay my 

nanny–housekeeper wages. Just put it 

toward Luca’s medical bill from the allergy 

incident.” 

“I wish you and Ms. Winter happiness.” 

“Eliana Randall.” 

After writing it, I looked at the estate one 

last time. Then I dragged my suitcase out of 

the West Wing. 

The sunlight outside was bright. When the iron gate opened, I suddenly felt light. 

It felt as if I had slipped off shackles that had been locked around me for years. 

I took a cab to the law firm. 

When Attorney Green saw me, he visibly 

relaxed. 

“Ms. Randall, you finally came. We were all 

worried about you.” 

I smiled. 

“Sorry for worrying you.” 

He took out a stack of documents. 

“These need your signature.” 

I signed them one by one. 

Then he suddenly asked, “Mr. Moretti said 

you had lost your memory and asked us not 

to disturb you. Ms. Randall, did you really lose your memory?” 

I nodded. 

“Yes. After the car accident, I forgot many things.” 

His expression shifted. 

“Then do you remember why you wanted the divorce?” 

I shook my head. 

He stayed silent for a moment, then sighed. 

“You once told me something.‘ 

“You said the biggest mistake of your life 

was giving up yourself for love.” 

“You said you didn’t want to keep making 

that mistake.” 

As I listened, a strange ache settled in my 

chest. 

I didn’t remember exactly what had 

happened. 

But from the diary, the photos, and what I 

had seen these past few days, I could roughly 

guess how suffocated my past self must have 

felt. 

After the paperwork was done, Attorney Green handed me the keys to the new 

apartment. 

“This is the apartment you chose before. It’s 

close to Randall Shipping headquarters. 

Then he handed me another document 

envelope. 

“These are some things your parents left 

behind. You said you would look at them 

after the divorce.” 

I took the envelope, and my heart tightened. 

The new apartment was a secure two–bedroom on Manhattan’s Upper East 

Side. It was simple and cozy. 

Through the floor–to–ceiling windows, I 

could see half the city. 

I stood by the window and looked at the 

traffic below and the river in the distance. 

Suddenly, I felt this was where I belonged. 

Not in that beautiful, suffocating mafia 

estate. 

I opened the envelope. 

Inside were several old photos. 

And a letter. 

On the envelope, it said: 

To my daughter, Eliana. 

It was my father’s handwriting. 

I took a deep breath and opened it. 

“Eliana, when you see this letter, your mother and I may no longer be here.” 

“Dad owes you an apology.” 

“When you insisted on marrying Damian, we 

opposed it. In the end, we still gave in.” 

“Because we saw the light in your eyes.” 

“But over these years, Dad watched you lose yourself little by little. My heart hurt so 

much.” 

“You went from the proud little princess of the Randall family to an anxious wife who was afraid of losing everything.” 

“For him, you gave up the shipping 

company. 

“For him, you swallowed every hurt.” 

“For him, you tolerated the woman in the 

East Wing.” 

“Eliana, love shouldn’t be like this. 

“Real love should make you freer, not 

smaller.” 

“If one day you feel tired, then leave.” 

“Return to your own world. Become that 

proud Randall heir again.” 

“You have talent. You have resources. You 

have a way out.” 

“You don’t need to shrink yourself to make 

any man feel whole.” 

“Dad will always love you.” 

After reading the letter, tears slipped down 

my face.