Goodbye, Mafia Ex-Boyfriend

I stood by Franco for seven years.

I stayed with him from his days as a Brooklyn street enforcer until he became the Underboss of the Moretti family.

We promised to marry the day he fully took over the territory.

Until last month.

I saw Franco tangled up with someone else on the leather sofa of his safe house.

He said she was cold like ice and that the other woman knew exactly how to please a man.

He pinned her down.

I chose to walk away.

I heard the rumors later.

After I left.

Franco lost his mind.

Chapter 1

"Franco, aren't you done yet."

Today was his official promotion to Underboss.

We were exactly half a month away from our seven-year promise.

I canceled all my syndicate meetings.

I poured his favorite Macallan whiskey and waited for him to come home to the penthouse.

I could not suppress my joy.

Our life-and-death journey was finally bearing fruit.

"Go to sleep first. Do not wait up. A shipment went wrong at the docks and I will be back as soon as I handle it."

His words were cut off by a sweet female voice.

She asked him to help her unzip her dress.

Click.

The call disconnected.

My mind went completely blank.

Franco was cheating.

He was not at the docks.

He was in another woman's bedroom.

An encrypted message popped up on my phone.

Franco had gained too much power recently.

He was dealing with all kinds of dangerous people.

I had started paying attention to the underground intelligence network.

I never expected today's black market headline to be about him.

The alert read that the new Moretti Underboss was hiding a mistress in a luxury condo.

It detailed a five-year secret affair between the Brooklyn mobster and a Lower East Side dancer.

The attached surveillance photos showed them entangled together over the span of five years.

I stared at the expensive whiskey I had poured.

I felt entirely ridiculous.

A sincere heart could mutate in an instant.

It was two in the morning.

Franco's phone went straight to voicemail.

I did not have the energy to interrogate him.

I recalled every bullet he took for me.

I felt like I had been living in a hallucination he meticulously crafted.

My absolute trust in him bought me this exact outcome.

The secure satellite phone in his study rang.

I picked it up.

I did not make a sound.

I desperately wanted an explanation.

As long as he explained it, I would force myself to believe him.

The sounds coming through the receiver were vile and unmistakable.

I prepared to hang up.

Then I heard his familiar voice.

"Franco, what if Siena finds out you are being this reckless."

"Relax. A woman like her cannot leave me. She threw her life away to protect me back then. I would not even look at her if I did not need a smooth transition into the Moretti family."

"But Franco, Siena cleared out so many of the Don's spies for you over the years."

I was just a stepping stone in his eyes.

"More than that. I control the entire South Side now. Once this arms deal goes through, the old Godfather is no longer a threat. The whole family will have to look at my face. As for Siena, I can kick her to the curb whenever I feel like it."

Laughter erupted through the speaker.

Followed by heavy panting.

I stood up.

I smashed the crystal bottle of Macallan against the hardwood floor.

I tore down the celebration banners like a madwoman.

A long time passed.

I walked back to the master bedroom.

I looked at our bed.

The phantom image of those two twisting together played right in front of my eyes.

I had never seen this version of Franco.

He was always fiercely loyal in front of me.

He was never this arrogant.

It was all an act.

A suffocating sensation drained the blood from my veins.

Tears spilled out of my eyes.

I unclasped the silver cross necklace he gave me.

I dropped it into the drawer.

Franco, I do not want you anymore.

I woke up very early the next morning.

I walked downstairs and saw Franco walking through the door.

"Siena, why are you up so early. You should sleep more."

I looked at him.

My face showed absolutely nothing.

My pathetic heart was still waiting for him to explain.

His tailored shirt was wrinkled.

He smelled like stale smoke and cheap cherry perfume.

I would have lost my mind in the past.

I did not do that today.

"I am sorry Siena. The shootout in the South Side took all night. I did not want to wake you up so I stayed at the club."

He was completely used to apologizing.

He would rather apologize than explain.

He assumed I did not read the underground intelligence.

I decided to play dead.

I was going to leave anyway.

I could never wake a person who was pretending to be asleep.

"It is fine."

"Look Siena. I brought you the pastrami sandwich from that deli you love. I had my guys wait in line for it. The syndicate is quiet today. I will stay home and keep you company."

I felt a wave of impatience.

"I have no appetite."

"Are you throwing a tantrum again."

He had no intention of explaining himself.

He chose to blame me instead.

"Siena, where is your cross."

He grabbed my wrist.

"What cross."

I sounded entirely indifferent.

"The one you always wear on your neck. You said you would never..."

"Oh, that. I saw a new design at the boutique recently. I am planning to replace it."

Franco panicked when he noticed the necklace was gone.

What was he panicking about.

Was he afraid I would leave.

Or was he feeling guilty.

That cross was a gift from seven years ago.

He bought it with the money he won in an underground boxing ring for my birthday.

It was cheap.

But it was the most precious thing in the world to us back then.

He told me he would replace it with a massive diamond the day he became Underboss.

I believed him.

I wore it every single day for seven years.

My mind drifted back to that night of bullets and rain.

Franco was covered in blood.

He was holding a cheap silver cross.

"Siena, promise me you will wait seven years. I know you do not despise me but I despise myself. I have nothing right now. I struggle just to keep you safe. Trust me. I will climb to the top of the Moretti family in seven years. I will marry you with honor and give you the grandest wedding."

"Okay."

The Siena from seven years ago accepted it with a heart full of joy.

She accepted his cross.

That loop lasted seven whole years.

I lived inside the illusion Franco spun for me.

I waited for the day he took power so I could be his rightful wife.

It did not matter how much I loved him anymore.

I was no longer the Siena from seven years ago.

Franco's phone buzzed.

The caller ID read Port Authority Contact.

Panic flashed through his eyes.

He quickly declined the call.

"What is wrong."

I pretended not to care.

"Nothing. The smuggling route contacts keep demanding a higher cut."

"That is business. Why did you hang up."

The phone rang again.

"Just answer it. Syndicate business is more important. I will look around on my own."

"No. I said I would spend the day with you. I am staying right here."

The caller tried several more times.

He cut off every single one.

A text message chimed.

I did not lift my eyes.

I knew it was not a port authority contact.

It was definitely the dancer he kept in the Lower East Side.

"Siena, I need to return a call."

"Okay."

He took his phone and walked to the corner.

I could not resist looking back at him.

I rarely saw Franco smiling with such genuine delight.

We returned to the penthouse.

Franco offered to cook dinner to make up for his absence.

He left his phone on the marble kitchen island.

The caller ID was still the Port Authority Contact.

I always knew Franco's passcode.

I unlocked the screen.

A stream of messages flooded in.

"Franco, I miss you so much. Are you coming over tonight."

"You were so rough last night. My back still hurts. I cannot even get out of bed."

A photo of her wearing sheer black lace lingerie followed.

I did not read the rest.

It was completely meaningless now.

I would never turn back once the thought of leaving took root in my mind.

His phone buzzed again.

I kindly handed it to him.

"Here. Your phone has been ringing for a while."

The corners of his mouth twitched upward as he answered.

I knew I was not going to eat this apology dinner tonight.

Franco hugged me gently.

His guilt was palpable.

"Siena, I am so sorry. An emergency came up at the warehouse. I have to head over there right now. I might have to stay at the club tonight."

"Okay. Go ahead."

I maintained a perfectly polite smile.

Franco grabbed his leather jacket and rushed toward the door.

I received a text from an unknown number at midnight.

It was a picture.

The photo only showed the side of Franco's face.

The woman only showed off a pair of long, bare legs.

I did not need to guess.

I had zero interest in knowing who this woman was.

The picture from last night made the underground tabloids the next morning.

[Moretti Underboss Franco Caught Cheating!]

[Franco's Chaotic Private Life Exposed!]

I looked at the headlines dominating the screen.

My heart felt absolutely nothing.

Don Moretti called me personally.

He told me not to throw a fit.

I gave him a few vague answers and ended the call.

Franco finally walked through the door a week later.

He brought the same pastrami sandwich.

I suddenly found it hilarious.

"Franco, I am about to throw up from eating this exact same sandwich for seven years. It makes me sick just looking at it."

"What."

He froze in place.

He never expected me to say something like that.

He thought I would spin around in circles with joy based on his understanding of me.

He thought I should be grateful.

A person truly lost all their light when they stopped loving.

Franco was wearing a custom navy suit today.

I used to think he looked bright and handsome.

Now he just looked horribly average.

People were right.

My love was the gold plating that made him shine.

He only glowed because I loved him.