Mob boss’s whisper： “Run from me, and darkness will hunt you down.” Novel – The small law office smelled faintly of dust and old paper. A flickering lamp in the corner gave off a weak, tired glow, casting shadows across the stacks of files lining the shelves. I sat across from Mr. Ricci, an older man with sharp glasses and sharper instincts. “You’re sure about this, Mrs. Russo?” he asked quietly, hands folded over the folder in front of him. The name sounded strange, like it belonged to someone else. “Yes,” I said, my voice steady even though my pulse wasn’t. “I want the divorce filed quietly. I don’t want my husband or his people knowing until everything’s finalized.” Ricci gave me a long, measuring look, but he didn’t question me further. Instead, he slid the paperwork towards me. “You’ll need his signature on these.” I nodded, slipping the papers into my leather folder. When I came back to the Russo mansion, it felt too quiet. The guards at the gate didn’t even spare me a second glance as I walked in. No one here paid me any attention now that I was reduced to the side piece in my own marriage. And the worst part? The worst part was my husband didn’t even care.
Knowing he would be in the study, I moved towards it and was proven right when Alessia’s laughter tinkled out through the half open door. These days, where Alessia was, my husband wasn’t too far away. “—so funny,” Alessia, my husband’s childhood best friend, who was back in the city after her divorce was saying. “I know, I’m the best,” came Dominic’s reply, his tone the most casual and relaxed I’d ever heard it be. On instinct, I opened the study door all the way through and stepped inside. Dominic Russo froze with his whisky glass halfway to his mouth as he looked at me standing in the doorway, his smile dropping at once. “Oh, hey, Isabella! You’re back from your studio already?” Alessia said, her perfectly painted lips pulling into a broad smile as she looked at me. I simply nodded in reply, but Alessia carried on the conversation before I could so much as open my mouth to speak. “That’s great.
I was just telling Dominic how he hasn’t lost his sense of humour. It’s the same as when we were kids,” she said, chuckling and oh so casually running her hand along his arm as she did so. Dominic didn’t say anything, didn’t push her away like I so desparately wanted him to. He just quietly sipped on his whiskey, like there was nothing wrong with a woman who wasn’t his wife to be practically sitting on his lap and touching him almost intimately like they were lovers. I looked away, unable to see the two of them so close. And sense of humour, huh? He hadn’t ever so much as cracked a joke with me in all our three years of marriage. Yet here he was, making another woman laugh with his words. “Right. I just needed you to sign a few documents for me,” I said, swallowing past the lump in my throat and pulling out the divorce papers from my bag. I quickly flipped to the page I wanted him to sign before placing it on the table in front of him. “What’s this?” Dominic asked, frowning at the papers. “It’s just a safety liability form for a new project I’m going to be starting soon for a company,” I said, sliding the papers across the polished wooden desk towards him. “I need you to sign it, since you’re my only family now,” I explained. The truth sat heavy between us. My parents had died when I was seventeen in a freak car accident.
Dominic’s father, the Don of the Russo family at the time, had taken me under his wing because my father had worked for him for years. “Let me just have a look,” Dominic muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he pulled the papers towards him. My heart dropped to my stomach. Normally, he didn’t read anything. Every paper related to my work I’d ever given to him, he had signed without a second glance. Why today? Why now? If he read what was written on those papers— “Oh, Dom,” Alessia chuckled. “You’re being too serious. It’s just a formality. You know how many of those we have to fulfill on a daily basis. Just get it done and over with.” As heiress to the Moretti enterprises, close business partners of the Russo family, Alessia had moved effortlessly in Dominic’s world since her return almost a year back. They were always together now—at galas, public events, casino backrooms where deals got made.
Everywhere Dominic went, Alessia was by his side, complimenting his tailor made tuxedos with her designer dresses. Dominic hesitated for a moment before picking up a pen and signing with a flourish, the same way he signed deals and death warrants. I quickly grabbed the papers from the desk before he could turn to the front page and read ‘DIVORCE PETITION’, written in bold across the front. I turned and walked out before either of them could see my hands shake. I was free. I clutched the divorce papers in my hand tightly as I walked upstairs to our room. The ink on the paper was barely dry, but our marriage had been over long before now. Though, it hadn’t always been like this between us. There was a time when Dominic could barely keep his hands off of me. A time when he would pull me into dark hallways to steal passionate kisses in the middle of a family gathering. Now, he barely acknowledged my existence. Dominic was everything a woman shouldn’t want—cold, ruthless, and dangerous.
At only twenty six, he had taken over nearly half his father’s business with his sharp wit, ruthless decisions and iron clad control. The media called him a young entrepreneur, but the streets knew better. I’d always kept my distance from him, never crossing paths unless it was absolutely necessary. Until that night three years ago that changed everything between us. He came home late at night, covered in someone else’s blood, while I was at the kitchen counter patching up my own knife wound—courtesy of one of his father’s men who thought the boss’ charity case was easy prey. Dominic helped patch me up, offering me more than just some first aid in return. He offered to marry me that night. A marriage of convenience, a business arrangement so to speak. Protection for me, and legitimacy for him. I agreed on a whim, and we got married a week later. He wasn’t particularly romantic, but the physical attraction between us burned brighter than anything I’d felt before. He fell in love with my body, while I ended up falling in love with all of him. I had almost convinced myself that I could, some day, make him love me back, too. But all my illusions shattered like broken glass when Alessia Moretti came back into our lives, and his late night meetings doubled.
Suddenly, she was everywhere. In his meetings. In his car. In his study. Last month at Luigi’s proved it. Luigi’s is an Italian restaurant owned by Dominic where we were supposed to have a romantic dinner for our three year marriage anniversary. I waited five hours for Dominic to show up, until his right hand man Eduardo came with pity in his eyes and a diamond necklace in his hands— an apology from Dominic for not being able to make it because of some ‘urgent business matter’. The ‘urgent business matter’ ended up being a gala he had attended with Alessia by his side—something I’d seen in the gossip column of the tabloids next morning. That was when I’d started planning my exit. I couldn’t stay here all my life, waiting for scraps of affection from a man who clearly didn’t give a damn about me. I quietly placed the divorce papers in the deepest corner of my closet where no one but me could reach them. This was going to be my ticket to freedom in a month. No more cages. No more pretending. Dominic could keep his business. His life. His Alessia. I refused to be the half forgotten side piece in my own marriage. Hope I had finalized the divorce already, now it was time for the next step. Two days later, I met with the HR director of a luxury design firm based in Florence.
They had been following my work for months, impressed by my portfolio and my knack for creating bespoke interiors that balanced elegance with practicality. “We’d be lucky to have you,” the director had said with a warm smile. “The position is yours if you want it. Start date is flexible, but we’d like you in Florence within the next two months.” I accepted without hesitation. Finally, I was going to live a life that belonged to me. Later that day, I sat in the room I’d converted to my home studio of sorts, a quiet place to work at on days I didn’t feel like going to my studio in the city, or for when inspiration struck late at night. The first box I packed was hidden beneath layers of fabric swatches and old sketchbooks in there. It wasn’t much-just framed photographs, my mother’s necklace, and a single pair of well-worn ballet shoes I hadn’t danced in for years-but even touching those things felt dangerous, like I was smuggling contraband out of enemy territory. Every day, I packed a little more. Quietly. Slowly. Because no one could know I was leaving. Not until I was gone. Three days later, Dominic came into the home studio unannounced. “Didn’t know you still hid out here,” came his voice from behind me, startling me. I turned around to see him leaning against the doorframe, his lips turned into a rare half smile. “It’s the only place where no one bothers me,” I replied, half teasing. “Even me?” I arched an eyebrow. “Especially you.” It was light banter, almost flirtatious, and for a moment I caught a flicker of something in his eyes-something that made my heartbeat hitch. “Come with me,” he said suddenly. “Where?” “Dinner. Just us. No business, no interruptions.” I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to. We made it as far as the front hall before Alessia appeared, silk blouse immaculate, tablet in hand. “Dom, you need to see this,” she said, breezing past me as though I didn’t exist. “Santoro’s shipment got held up in Naples. If we don’t-” “It can wait,” Dominic cut in, voice cool.