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Divorcing the Mafia Don
Novelix
Completed
Claire Moretti survived eight suicide attempts, and everyone believed she was a possessive wife trying to chain Don Adrian Moretti to her side. In truth, each “mad” act pulled him away from women planted by his enemies. When Adrian returns home only to protect his pregnant mistress, Lily, Claire stops fighting. She tricks him into signing their divorce, disappears to Antarctica, and leaves him to uncover the betrayal he refused to see. Adrian learns Lily is laundering money for Horizon, the enemy Claire had been tracking. Years later, guilt leads him back to her—and toward the ending he deserves.
Chapters (3)
第1章
After my eighth suicide attempt, my husband, Don Adrian Moretti, finally "came home."
He stopped going to the cocktail parties. He stopped showing up at nightclubs. He stopped bringing women back to the apartment.
Some people mocked him for it — said the Don of the Moretti family was being kept on a leash like a dog by a woman.
Adrian heard the talk. He just smiled.
His men whispered about me behind closed doors too. They said I was too controlling, that I wasn't fit to be the Don's wife.
Adrian would pull me close instead. "Claire, don't listen to them. We made it through worse times than this. If a few rumors are enough to break us now, then what was the point of me coming home?"
I believed him.
Until the day I came home early.
The master bedroom door was half open. Adrian lifted his head from a young girl's body and saw me standing there. He didn't panic. He just smiled — with something like regret.
"I didn't want to hurt you. I'd been hiding it so well, Claire. Why did you have to come back a day early?"
I looked at the mess on the bed and quietly poured myself a glass of water.
He pulled the girl into his arms, shielding her. "Lily isn't like you. She's the reason I decided to settle down. Either pretend you didn't see this, or I give her a title. Your choice. I'll go with whatever you decide."
In that moment, I finally understood.
I'd tried to kill myself eight times. Made enough of a scene that the whole world knew. Everyone believed Don Adrian Moretti had finally turned over a new leaf — for me.
But it was never for me.
I set the glass back on the table. "Either one is fine," I said quietly. "I'll step aside for her."
Adrian's hand stopped midair.
The cigarette was still between his lips. He tilted his head to look at me. "Either one is fine?"
He took the cigarette out and let out a short laugh. "Claire. Say that again."
My fingers were still wrapped around the glass. I didn't look at him. "Give Lily a title — fine. I'll pretend I didn't see anything — also fine. You choose."
I handed his own words right back to him.
Adrian stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly pushed the girl out of his arms.
"Lily, step outside."
Lily bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes, and glanced at me timidly.
Adrian was never a patient man. When she didn't move, he frowned, but still kept his voice gentle. "Be good. This won't take long."
Only then did Lily leave, eyes rimmed red.
The door closed. It was just the two of us.
Adrian walked up to me and looked down at the glass in my hand. "You're really not angry?"
I raised my eyes. "Would you prefer it if I were?"
"Claire, you can be angry. But don't play games. I don't have the energy to guess what you're planning next."
I said nothing, eyes lowered.
He gripped my chin and tilted my face up toward his. "When you used to throw fits, I knew how to handle you. You'd slam your head against the wall — I'd hold you back. You'd slit your wrists — I'd grab the knife. You'd jump off a building — I'd pull you in. As long as you were reacting, I could deal with it. But now you're standing here saying 'either one is fine.' What am I supposed to do with you?"
I gently turned my head away. "Then don't worry about me. Do whatever you want. To the outside world, you're still the good husband. Behind closed doors, which room you sleep in, whose bed you share — that's your call."
The smile on his lips faded slightly. "And what about you? What's in it for you?"
I looked at him. "Whatever you want me to be, I'll be."
He blinked, caught off guard for just a moment.
"Good girl."
He reached out and brushed the hair behind my ear. "This is why you're the Mrs. Moretti I insisted on marrying. Since you really are fine with everything, then I'll set her up in the East District apartment. Out of your sight."
My face showed nothing. I turned to leave.
"But I have one condition," he said.
"You'll have dinner with me at least once a week. Just the two of us. I haven't forgotten the promises I made you. Claire — in this lifetime, Adrian Moretti will only ever have one wife."
I turned my face halfway toward him. "Don't you find it ridiculous, saying that right now?"
In his world, sharing one meal a week with me was the full extent of a husband's duty.
He laughed softly. "It is ridiculous. But I'm afraid you'll stop eating. The world has no shortage of women, but a man only has one wife. She still needs looking after."
So that was what "looking after" meant. One dinner.
I went into the guest room on the first floor. When I took out my phone, there was a text from half an hour ago:
"Ms. Claire, the information you requested has come back."
"Three properties and two companies under Adrian Moretti's name have been transferred without your knowledge. Recipient: Lily Vale. Date of transfer: three months ago."
Three months ago.
That was when I'd tried to kill myself for the eighth time.
I stared at the screen for a long while, then dialed a number.
"Mr. Hayes, that divorce plan I asked you about — no need to wait any longer."
Two seconds of silence on the other end. "Ms. Claire, are you certain? The asset division would be extremely unfavorable for you. Mr. Moretti's side—"
"It's fine."
I turned off the light and lay down in the dark.
"I'll give him what he wants."
第2章
After I hung up, I closed my eyes.
Footsteps came from the master bedroom next door, followed by Lily's muffled crying and Adrian's voice, soothing her.
"Silly girl. She saw us — so what? What are you scared of?"
"But the way she looked at me just now... I'm scared."
Adrian let out a low laugh. "Relax. She'll make things hard for me, make things hard for herself, but she won't touch you. If she actually had the ability to deal with the women around me, she wouldn't have needed to die eight times to make me stay. She knows the problem was never about anyone else."
I didn't open my eyes. The corner of my mouth twitched — I couldn't tell if I was smiling or about to cry.
The next morning, Adrian pushed open the guest room door just as my phone received a photo.
It was Lily's prenatal exam report.
He leaned against the doorframe and watched me for a moment. "Didn't sleep well last night?"
He walked over, bending down close. "Your eyes are a little swollen."
He reached out to touch me.
I turned my head slightly, and his fingers caught nothing but air.
Adrian paused, then smiled. "Still angry?"
Before the words had fully left his mouth, he caught sight of the photo on my phone screen. The smile on his face froze for an instant, then quickly dissolved.
"Digging into her again?"
I didn't look up. "She sent it herself."
He watched me for two seconds, then straightened up. "Fine. She sent it herself."
He didn't believe I hadn't been investigating. He didn't believe Lily had sent it to me on her own.
In his mind, Lily was already sacrificing enough just by quietly following him around. He couldn't bear to pin a shred of calculation on that innocent girl.
I was different.
I'd tried to die eight times.
The quieter I became, the more convinced he was that I was scheming.
Adrian reached up and loosened his collar. "I was planning to tell you in the next couple of days anyway. She's two months along."
The room went silent.
After a long pause, I turned my face toward him. "Adrian, do you remember what you once said — if we ever had children, what we'd name them?"
The smile was still on his face. "Noah for a boy, Grace for a girl. Safe, and blessed by God."
"And do you remember swearing that if I didn't have children, you never would either?"
He faltered for a moment, then sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at me.
"Claire, promises are precious things. But let me be honest with you — don't take this the wrong way. You've tried to kill yourself eight times. You can't even take care of yourself. How could I possibly let you have a child?"
He reached over, the back of his fingers brushing across my cheek.
"Lily's different. She's healthy, even-tempered. She won't gamble with her life the way you do. If she carries the baby, I won't have to spend every day terrified. But I promise you — when the child is born, it will call you 'Mom.' I won't let her take your place."
He wasn't negotiating when he said this.
He was simply waiting for me to nod.
I unclenched my fists, and my voice came out steadier than even I expected. "You've thought of everything."
He smiled and ruffled my hair. "That's why I'm your husband, right?"
At three in the afternoon, the driver Frank knocked and came in, carrying a bag of documents.
"Ma'am, Boss asked me to bring these over. He says there are a few files he needs you to look at. All routine."
"Leave them on the table."
Frank set the documents down but didn't leave right away. He hesitated a moment, then spoke. "Ma'am, there's something I'd like to report."
"Go ahead."
"That car you had me watching — I've seen it parked outside the Emerald Bay apartments in the West End several nights in a row. I checked with the building management over there, and it turns out Ms. Lily lives in that building too."
He finished speaking and took a small step back.
He probably expected me to throw something.
I just let out a quiet "mm." "Got it. You don't need to keep watching."
Frank looked stunned. "You don't need me to? I thought you'd always suspected the owner of that car was a threat to Boss."
"It was a misunderstanding. Go on, get back to work."
Frank left, clearly bewildered.
I flipped open the files he'd brought. All routine paperwork for the Moretti Group's legitimate business operations. Tucked at the back was a blank check, already stamped with Adrian's seal. The amount line was empty.
When it came to indulging me, he had always been generous.
I pulled the check out and slipped it into my bag.
That evening, Adrian came home early.
He saw me sitting at the dining table, sipping congee, and paused for a moment before taking the seat across from me.
"This quiet today?"
He smiled, reached for the stack of files on the table, flipped through them, and noticed the check was gone. One eyebrow lifted.
"Took it?"
"Wasn't it for me?"
"It was for you."
He closed the file and tossed it aside. "By the way, I've got a job for you. There's a project meeting tomorrow — go in my place. Show your face, say a few pleasantries, and you're done."
He didn't give me a chance to refuse. He took a phone call and was gone.
Ever since his so-called "homecoming," rushing in and rushing out had become the norm. During that stretch, no tabloid caught him in a scandal. I convinced myself it was all for the family business. Not for another woman.
But in the end, his idea of settling down was just picking one flower from the garden and bringing it home to keep.
It had nothing to do with me. It never had.
The next morning, I went to the project meeting in his place.
Six or seven people sat around the conference table, all managers under Adrian. There was also a young man I didn't recognize well, seated at the far end.
Halfway through the meeting, the project manager turned on him.
"Ryan, the data you're responsible for is three days late. How are we supposed to explain that to Boss?"
The young man didn't flinch. "The data needed to be double-checked. I wasn't going to submit false numbers."
The project manager slapped the table. "This isn't a research lab. Boss wants results, not process."
I said nothing, eyes on my phone.
These people loved passing the buck. Adrian hadn't shown up himself because he wanted me to absorb the headaches for him.
Just then, a message from Hayes came through:
"The agreement has been delivered to the storage locker in your basement garage."
I locked the screen and looked at the young man named Ryan.
"Give Ryan three days for the review. If there's an error, it's on me."
The project manager stiffened. "Ma'am, but Boss—"
"I'll talk to Boss."
The room went quiet for two seconds.
Ryan glanced at me, then quickly lowered his head. "Thank you, ma'am."
After the meeting, Ryan was waiting by the door.
"I've actually finished the review. I found an anomaly yesterday and wanted to confirm it before reporting."
"Then go with what you've confirmed."
I gave a small nod and walked away.
That evening, I was making tea.
Adrian had barely sat down before he spoke, not even lifting his head. "I hear you stuck your neck out for a young man in the meeting today."
第3章
I placed the teacup by his left hand. "His name is Ryan Cole. He works for you. You don't know him?"
Adrian picked up the cup, his gaze settling on my face.
"You seemed pretty protective of him."
"He found an anomaly. I had no reason to sit there and watch him get bullied into admitting a mistake he didn't make."
Adrian gave a short laugh. "But you never used to speak up for anyone."
"That was before."
The smile didn't leave his lips, but something in his eyes went half a shade colder. "Someone told me he got out of your car."
"Frank took the day off. Ryan filled in as my driver for part of the way. Go ahead and get busy — I'm going to bed."
As I turned, I heard him laugh softly behind me.
"All right. Get some sleep."
My hand was just touching the doorknob when he added: "Oh — Ryan won't need to come in anymore. I've had him transferred to the branch office."
I didn't look back. I pulled open the door and walked out.
For the next three days, Adrian didn't come home.
Frank told me: "Ma'am, Boss spoke to me about Ryan filling in for me. He seemed genuinely angry. When a man gets jealous, it means he still cares. Maybe you could give him a way to save face?"
I stared at the eighth message I'd sent Adrian.
"There are documents that need your signature."
Still no reply.
"A man who cares," I said, "doesn't go three days without answering."
That evening, two more calls came in from the docks.
I couldn't wait any longer. I went straight to Lily's apartment.
The intercom buzzed once. Lily's voice floated through: "Who is it?"
"It's me. Claire."
Two seconds of silence, then the lock clicked open.
When the door swung wide, Lily saw me and her lashes trembled.
"Adrian's in the shower... just a moment."
The sound of running water stopped. Adrian's voice came from inside: "Who's here?"
"Me."
Adrian walked out in a bathrobe, hair still dripping. The instant he saw me, he froze, then frowned.
He crossed the room, grabbed me, and pulled me from the center of the living room to the front door.
"What are you doing here?"
His eyes darted to Lily's belly — the anxiety was obvious.
I looked at him. I didn't try to pull my wrist free. "I came to find you."
"Find me?" His brow furrowed deeper. "We'll talk later. Go home first."
"It can't wait."
I pulled a manila envelope from my pocket and slid out a stack of documents.
"Sign this, and I'll leave right now."
Adrian glanced down.
It was the withdrawal confirmation for the company partner, Victor Stone.
"You and Victor have been going back and forth on this for a month. Stop dragging it out." I held out a pen. "He calls me every day and I'm sick of it. If you don't sign, I'm staying the night."
Before he could respond, Lily sniffled softly behind him.
"Adrian, I'm scared..."
Adrian turned to look at her, his frown deepening.
He took the pen, flipped to the last page, and signed his name on the signature line.
"Happy now? Can you leave?"
He tossed the pen onto the table and was already turning toward Lily.
I took the document, confirmed the signature page was clean and complete, then walked to the door.
Adrian called after me, weariness threading through his voice: "Claire, don't come here again. She scares easily. She can't handle you showing up like this."
I didn't turn around.
"Don't worry. I won't be back."
The door closed behind me, and Hayes's text arrived at the same moment.
"Ms. Claire, has the divorce agreement been signed?"
I looked down at the document in my hand — the one disguised as a "withdrawal confirmation" — and typed back:
"Yes."
