Eloped Ex Wanted Me Back? I Became His Mafia Godmother! Chapter 01
The night before my due date, I overheard my husband—Dante, the Romano family’s brutal enforcer—muttering to himself.
“If only Mara wasn’t pregnant…”
The next day, on my way to the delivery room, the orphan girl he sponsored T-boned my car.
Then she sobbed, flashing a terminal diagnosis.
“Dante, I’m dying! If you leave me, I’ll end it right now!”
Bleeding out and begging for a hospital, Dante kicked me away in a blind rage and locked me in the wrecked car.
“Get lost! If anything happens to Sienna, you and that bastard in your womb are dead!”
Trapped for twenty-four hours, my baby was already suffocated inside me by the time they cut me out.
While I hovered near death, Dante’s cold call came through: “Sign the divorce papers. Sienna needs treatment abroad, and I’m taking her as her husband.”
I wept, signed, and vanished with my baby’s ashes.
Five years later, inspecting a coastal project in Port Alden, I ran right into him.
His eyes turned bloodshot the moment he saw the three-year-old girl in my arms.
“I told you to wait for me at home. Now you’re picking up trash with my kid? Are you even fit to be a mother?”
He had no idea his child died five years ago.
And me? I was already the Donna of the Valenti cartel.
…
“She’s tiny for a five-year-old, Mara. How the hell are you raising her?”
“And here I thought you had pride after ghosting me for five years. Turns out you’re just begging for scraps with a kid. Let me guess—you knew I was inspecting this place and staged this whole act, didn’t you?”
I held my daughter close, staring coldly at the man before me.
Dante Romano. My ex-husband of five years.
Still the same arrogant, narcissistic prick.
And clinging to his arm, dripping in designer clothes—was Sienna, the pathetic orphan he used to sponsor.
The two of them flaunted their cheap intimacy right in my face—just like old times.
Back when I was pregnant, Dante brought this ragged high schooler to our estate.
Pitying her, I hired top nutritionists, got Ivy League professors to tutor her, and bankrolled her all the way to Harvard Business School.
She owed her entire life to my charity.
Yet the moment she turned eighteen, she crawled straight into Dante’s bed.
When I stayed silent, Dante scowled at my daughter.
“My mother already despised your bloodline. Now you can’t even feed a kid? How am I supposed to pass the Romano empire down to her?”
The absurdity hit me. He actually thought she was his?
A dark laugh escaped my throat.
Where does he get the absolute balls?!
His actual flesh and blood—choked to death in my womb five years ago by his own hands!
And the executioner? The biological father himself!
Rage flared in my chest. I took a step back, shielding my daughter.
“Dante, if you’re blind, get your eyes checked.”
“This is MY kid. She has zero connection to you!”
“You can’t honestly be stupid enough to think I’d ever breed for you again?”
“Especially after—”
