My Ex-Fiancé Severed My Finger to Please His Lover Chapter 01
The day before our wedding, Marco De Luca died in a car crash.
Everyone thought I would cry myself sick, lose my mind, and fall apart without him.
I did none of that.
Five years later, inside a private club on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, the man who had supposedly returned from the dead had his arm around another woman’s waist. With everyone cheering them on, he kissed her until they pulled apart slowly, intimate enough to make the whole room whistle.
He looked like he did not remember me at all.
When he saw me standing alone in the corner, he smiled with open arrogance.
“So you’re the fiancee who supposedly loved me to death? Five years, and you’re still waiting for me? Are you insane? You really can’t live without me?”
“For the sake of you keeping yourself untouched for me all these years, I can keep you on the side. But the title of Mrs. De Luca only belongs to Sofia. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are for Sofia. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, I’ll come see you. Sundays, you’ll come serve both of us.”
I smiled.
“Sorry. You’ve got the wrong person.”
Marco did not know that on the night of his car crash, I had received a video.
He knew even less that during the five years he and Sofia Ricci were off living their happy little lie, I had already married another man.
Our daughter was four.
And that man was his own uncle, the youngest Don of New York’s Five Families.
Salvatore De Luca.
When I saw Marco De Luca again, I never expected it to be like this.
He had Sofia’s waist in his arm, their bodies pressed tightly together as they gave in to the rising cheers around them. They kissed until the moment their lips separated, slow and shameless.
A few minutes later, Sofia collapsed against him with flushed cheeks and whined, “Fine, I give up… You’re too rough.”
Marco lowered his head and breathed against her neck.
“That’s rough? Funny. I seem to remember someone begging me last night…”
The private room burst into even louder cheers.
Someone laughed and called Sofia, “Mrs. De Luca!”
Someone else teased, “Marco, it’s been five years. You’re really not going to care about Elena anymore?”
Marco leaned lazily against the couch and shrugged like he could not care less.
“Of course I’ll care. I just haven’t had enough fun yet. Once Sofia and I finish the wedding, I’ll naturally ‘recover my memory.'”
“Everyone knows Elena loved me so much she’d kiss the floor I walked on. If she finds out I’m alive, she’ll probably do what she did five years ago and kneel all night at St. Patrick’s Cathedral begging God to keep me safe.”
“Hahaha, I still laugh whenever I think about how desperate Elena used to be. I heard she lived terribly overseas these past five years. Without Marco, she probably could barely survive.”
The laughter in the room nearly lifted the ceiling.
I had meant to leave, but someone with sharp eyes spotted me.
“Elena!”
The one who had been laughing at me the loudest was Marco’s closest friend. Now he awkwardly tried to smooth things over.
“Marco is alive, but he didn’t tell you because he lost his memory. And, well, he has another woman now. We were afraid you couldn’t handle it.”
“Exactly. We all know the woman Marco loves most deep down is you. But he forgot you. Even if you make a scene now, he’ll only think you’re crazy.”
Before I could speak, Marco let out a scoff.
“So you’re the fiancee who loved me to death?”
His gaze swept over my simple clothes, and disgust filled his face.
“Without me, this is what you’ve become? You’re that desperate for me?”
Marco was still Marco.
Arrogant.
Untouchable.
Full of himself.
Five years had passed. Looking at the hidden smugness in his eyes, I no longer felt the old flutter in my chest.
Only revulsion.
I had just gotten off a flight and had not even adjusted to the time difference. I only came to this club because my daughter loved the strawberry mousse here.
When I said nothing, he lazily pulled Sofia closer and gave her a quick French kiss right in front of me.
When they pulled apart, the corner of their mouths still glistened.
Sofia gave him a coy little push.
“Stop it. Elena is watching.”
I pressed my lips together.
My body recoiled before my mind did.
But Marco misunderstood my expression, and amusement brightened his eyes.
“What are you afraid of? In the future, you’ll be my wife. If she still wants to follow me around, she’ll have to get used to it.”
He lifted his brows at me.
“For the sake of you saving yourself for me these five years, I can keep you on the side. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are for Sofia. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, I’ll see you. Sunday, you’ll serve us both.”
Everyone immediately chimed in.
“Elena, look. Even with amnesia, Marco still hasn’t forgotten he loves you. He’s giving you three days a week.”
“Exactly. Without Marco these five years, look at what happened to you. You must have spent all that time overseas waiting tables and scrubbing toilets, huh? Hurry up and say yes. If Marco changes his mind, you won’t get to see him even if you beg.”
Sofia tightened her grip around Marco’s arm, marking her territory as she looked at me with provocation.
“Elena, I don’t want this either, but what can I do? Marco only loves me now. You’ll just have to suffer a little and be the mistress no one can see.”
“Mistress?” Marco sneered. “Without me, she can’t even live. If I told her to die, she’d probably run to do it.”
Something pricked lightly at my chest.
Five years ago, during that crash, he had shielded me with his own body.
Before he closed his eyes, he held my shaking hand and comforted me again and again in a weak voice.
“Don’t be scared. I won’t die. I told you, I’ll be your guardian angel for the rest of my life. No one gets to hurt you.”
Could someone who had loved me like that truly become unrecognizable just because of “amnesia”?
I pressed down the bitterness in my chest, took a deep breath, and smiled faintly.
“Sorry. You’ve got the wrong person.”
I lifted the ring on my hand.
“I’m already married.”
