The Mafia Princess’s Revenge Chapter 03
Jessica’s eyes glinted with triumph as she heard her boyfriend’s voice.
She answered softly. “Not yet, but it should be almost done.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Just a little.”
“I’ll come pick you up.”
“Okay.”
She hung up and looked at me, smug.
“You heard him, Donna. My boyfriend’s coming. We’ve been together since college—almost five years now.”
“We’re getting married in November. I’ll send you an invitation.”
The room’s gaze turned on me.
Pity. Scorn. Mockery.
In their eyes, I was the crazy Donna who’d thrown away her perfect life over jealousy.
And Gary, the king of Brooklyn. He was utterly perfect.
I was just ungrateful.
Gary forced a gentle smile, ignoring his rising symptoms, and took my hand.
“Honey, I know I’ve been busy. I haven’t been around enough.”
“But everything I do is for us—for our future—”
At this moment, any normal woman would have taken the out.
But my reaction took everyone by surprise.
I roughly shook off his hand and stepped back two paces.
“Take your dirty hands off me. You make me sick.”
Gary’s hypocritical mask suddenly shattered, revealing the fury of a mafia don whose dignity had been trampled upon.
“You really want to burn this all down?”
I stared at him coldly, then glanced at Jessica’s fake-teary face.
Then I turned and walked away.
Gary yelled behind me.
“Brianna, can’t you just understand me?”
“What did I do wrong?”
I didn’t look back.
Not long after I left, Gary’s allergic reaction spiraled out of control. He collapsed in the ballroom.
His men rushed him to the hospital.
The doctor said he would have been in danger if they’d arrived just a few minutes later.
Jessica cried hysterically, terrified she’d be blamed for killing the Don.
Back at the mansion, I packed my bags and called my lawyer.
Gary didn’t come home that night.
Instead, he texted me, lying to cover up what Jessica had done.
Gary: [Honey, I drank too much. I’m staying at a nearby hotel.]
Gary: [Come to the tower office tomorrow. We’ll talk.]
I deleted the message immediately.
Allergic attack, rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. He said he’s sleeping it off at a hotel?
He thought I was an idiot.
At the hospital, Gary woke up and comforted the sobbing Jessica first.
“It’s just an allergy. I’m not gonna die.”
Then he called me. I didn’t answer.
By afternoon, he checked out and raced back to the mansion.
He walked in, saw me on the couch, and exhaled in relief.
He put on that fake warm smile again, sat next to me, and reached to pull me into his arms.
I leaned away. His hand hung in the air.
Before he could react, I pulled out the signed divorce papers and held them out.
“Sign it.”
Gary’s smile died completely.
“You’re serious?”
“Did you think I was joking?”
Gary didn’t even glance at the papers. He tore them to pieces and threw them in the trash.
“I will never agree to this!” he roared, wild with anger.
“I live a life where I could die any day! I take territory, smuggle guns, make alliances—all for you!”
“You’re divorcing me over one piece of crab?”
I watched his fake kindness turn into screaming madness.
I laughed quietly.
“For me?”
“Ask yourself who you’re really doing this for—”
The air went silent.
