The Mafia’s Scapegoat Bride: A Stolen Life Chapter 09

The Mafia’s Scapegoat Bride: A Stolen Life Chapter 09

Grace’s terror melted into hollow despair. 

She walked straight to Matthew, wrapped her 

arms around his waist, and buried her face in his 

chest. Blood trickled down her cheek and onto his 

shirt, blooming like scattered roses. 

“Matthew, I did all of this because I loved you too 

much.” 

“I was always the fake daughter. Before Olivial 

came back, everyone thought you and I were 

perfect for each other. But everything changed the second she returned. I was terrified you’d forget 

me, that I’d be left with nothing. All those terrible. 

things I did… they were just the desperate acts of a girl who loved you too deeply.” 

Matthew pried her fingers off his body one by one, slow and deliberate–the same gentle motion he’d used to slip a wedding band onto Olivia’s hand before the priest. 

“The Lucchese contract binds me, but you were never truly part of the family. Not from the very beginning.” 

He raised the scalpel once more. 

“Every scar you carved into her skin, you will bear 

yourself.” 

Grace stumbled backward into the wall, her hands. 

shaking as she pulled a folded report from her 

pocket. 

It was a positive pregnancy test. Eight weeks. 

Her eyes flared with frantic, grasping hope. 

“Stop! I’m carrying your child!” 

Matthew froze in place. 

Grace latched onto this last lifeline. In the mafia 

world, a child was the most unbreakable 

bargaining chip. 

“She’s dead. She’s gone. But I have your baby. Let’s 

stay together. Let’s get married.” 

I hovered beneath the ceiling, watching the scene 

unfold coldly. 

Matthew fell into a long, heavy silence. 

Then he laughed. 

I knew that smile well. 

It was the cold, detached smirk of a Don 

sentencing a traitor to death–no rage, no sorrow, 

only the quiet relief of a long–overdue end. 

“Eric. Schedule an abortion.” 

Grace’s scream tore through the silent corridor. 

“You’re insane! This is your child!” 

“I only wanted a second child because Olivia could 

not conceive. Now that she’s gone, I have no use 

for it.” 

Grace’s legs buckled. 

She slid down the wall, fresh blood gushing from 

her cheek wound. She swiped at it frantically, 

smearing scarlet across her face like a grotesque 

mask. 

Matthew turned to Eric, his voice flat and final. 

“Hand all evidence to the FBI. Lock Grace up for 

life. Let her taste every ounce of the helplessness 

and despair Olivia suffered.” 

A hoarse, broken laugh bubbled from the corner. 

“Don’t play the righteous hero, Matthew. You hurt 

her far worse than anyone. You’re the one who deserves to rot. You cut her face open with your own two hands–how dare you act innocent?” 

Matthew stood motionless, his back rigid to her. 

He remained frozen for a long, agonizing moment. 

At last, he returned to the operating table, lifted the white sheet, and took my cold hand, pressing it firmly against his cheek. 

The very hand that had signed my ruin now clung to mine like a drowning man’s last lifeline. 

He shattered completely. 

He sobbed uncontrollably. 

The ruthless Don of the Gambino family knelt 

beside a corpse, crying like a forsaken child, his 

face buried in my lifeless palm. 

“I’m the one who wronged you. I’m the one who 

deserves to die.” 

He wept for a long time. 

Eventually, he composed himself and covered my 

body once again. 

“Wait for me, Olivia. Once I’ve settled everything, I’ll 

come find you.” 

I floated behind him, drowning in pure disgust. 

He repented to a silent corpse, shedding cheap, 

effortless tears. It was no different from 

confessing to a priest–mumbling hollow. 

apologies before returning to his cruelty. 

I never wanted to lay eyes on him again, in life or the afterlife. 

But I could not leave. 

An invisible thread tethered my soul to his, forcing 

me to follow his every move. 

He headed to a law firm and signed over all Gambino shares, properties, and assets to Mark. 

His lawyer stared at him in disbelief. 

“Don Gambino, are you certain? This is billions in assets–nothing for your biological son Evan?” 

“Mark is the only one who ever gave her warmth, her only comfort in this world. I owe her this much, to let her rest easy.” 

I lingered in the corner, worn out and hollow. 

After signing the paperwork, he drove to the street where I’d once sold hot dogs. 

The food cart still stood in its old spot, its surface 

dusted over with time. 

He tried to grill hot dogs with clumsy, fumbling 

movements. He did not know to oil the grill or time. 

the flip–just as he’d never known that love starts 

with respect. 

My soul followed him through city streets, over 

elevated highways, and up winding mountain. 

roads, until we reached a cemetery. 

The final resting place of my foster father, 

Jonathan. 

He knelt before the tombstone, neatly laid out the 

burnt hot dogs, and treated the charred, ruined 

food like sacred offerings. 

“Jonathan. I’ve tried countless times. This is the 

closest I could get to Olivia’s cooking. She’s with 

you now, isn’t she?” 

He bowed his head repeatedly, slamming his forehead against the concrete until blood ran, mixing with dust across his face. 

“I’ve bought the plot right beside yours. You’ll keep her company, so she’ll never be lonely. I won’t 

purchase a grave nearby. A sinner like me 

deserves to wander alone. Even in death, she 

would never want me by her side.” 

I floated behind his hunched back, and at last, 

peace settled over me. 

Sirens wailed in the distance. 

Officers pulled him to his feet and cuffed him. He 

glanced back one last time at Jonathan’s 

tombstone and the empty grave waiting for me, 

then climbed into the police car. 

The moment the car door slammed shut, the dark 

clouds scattered. 

I looked down at my translucent hands. 

They were glowing. 

Soft, faint golden light. 

I stepped forward. No invisible force held me 

back. 

I stepped again, I was truly free. 

I finally understood the truth of my endless. 

obsession. 

It was never him trapping me. I had trapped 

myself. 

I’d clung to Jonathan, to Mark, to every unfulfilled 

wish I’d never gotten to complete. 

Now Jonathan rested in peace, Mark had endless wealth and safety, and Matthew had received his long–overdue punishment. 

It was time for me to go. 

A gentle wind stirred. 

My soul lightened, dissolving into fine glowing strands starting from my fingertips. 

I glanced one last time at the departing police car, my gaze locking with Matthew’s through the 

window. 

“Goodbye, Matthew.”