When His Apology Comes Five Years Late

My husband, mafia Don Leo Falcone, detonated the door to my safehouse with forged syndicate papers in hand.

He came to force me to take the fall for his mistress, Serena, threatening to cut off my sister Chloe's medical funds if I refused.

What he didn't know was that Chloe had already succumbed to her agony three years ago because Serena stole her money.

And he didn't know that I had bled out in a dark alley five years before that.

He had exiled me to protect Serena, and I was cornered and stabbed thirteen times by the relatives of the rivals his syndicate killed.

Suspended near the ceiling as a ghost, I watched him aggressively demand my whereabouts, fully believing I was just throwing a tantrum.

"If she does not show up in three days to sign these papers, I will cut off every single dime," he threatened.

It wasn't until his Tracker handed him my cremation documents and the gruesome crime scene photos that he finally broke.

For five years, he had pampered the true venomous snake while I rotted in the ground, paying for her fatal mistakes with my life.

I watched the invincible Don reduced to a sobbing wreck, feeling no pity at all.

After personally sending Serena to a federal supermax, Leo returned to our old apartment, swallowed a bottle of pills, and slumped against the wall to die.

"This time, I am not looking for anyone else. Just you," he whispered.

But as he took his final rattling breath, I simply turned away and left him in the dark forever.