Chapter1

I was the East Coast Godfather’s wife—yet on the eve of our third anniversary, I was tied to a chair and livestreamed begging for my life.

While a gun was pressed to my forehead, he was shutting down city streets to celebrate another woman’s birthday with fireworks.

I miscarried in an ambulance because the main artery had been sealed—by his order.

“Don’t be emotional,” he said, claiming the loss of our child was my weak body, not his decision.

Only after I signed the divorce and disappeared from his world did he finally realize he had driven away the only woman who ever stood beside him—and for the first time in his life, the Godfather lost control and lost his mind with regret.

……

In my third year of marriage to the East Coast mafia boss, my identity as bloodline of a rival family was exposed—yet I still had to remain his wife.

The night before our anniversary, I was dragged from my car, cameras shoved in my face for a livestream. Everyone was watching me beg for help.

What they wanted was simple: ransom. One nod from him, and I'd make it home alive.

The kidnapper pressed a gun to my forehead, grinning. "Call your husband. Let's hear what he chooses."

The warehouse lights were so bright I could barely open my eyes. My wrists were zip-tied, numb from the pressure. The camera was practically in my face, livestream comments scrolling past endlessly. Some were betting on whether the Godfather would save me. Others mocked that arranged marriages were just transactions.

The ringleader crouched in front of me, holding a phone to my mouth.

"You're Godfather Adrian's wife, right? Call him yourself. Put it on speaker. Let everyone hear what he says."

"You're his legitimate wife. He can't just let you die. Call him yourself. Have him say the word. As long as he agrees to pay, we'll let you go immediately."

I stared at him, saying nothing. But inside, I felt a chill spreading through me.

Three years of marriage, and I'd never asked him for anything publicly.

Tonight, the first time I'd ask him for anything, it was for my life.

I dialed Adrian's number.

The phone rang for a long time.

First time, no answer.

Second time, still no response.

The kidnapper's expression darkened.

"Keep calling. You better pray he picks up."

The third time, the call finally connected.

It was loud on his end. I heard music, people laughing and saying "happy birthday."

My throat tightened, but I forced myself to speak clearly.

"Adrian, I've been kidnapped. They're livestreaming it, demanding ransom. You need to transfer the money right now or send someone. I'm not joking."

Two seconds of silence on the other end.

His voice was low and calm.

"Where are you now?"

"Port warehouse. I don't know the exact location. You can track it. Please hurry, they have guns."

He seemed to walk away a few steps. The background music became clearer.

"I'm at an important event right now." His voice was as calm as if he were handling a contract. "Stay calm."

My heart plummeted.

"I'm about to be killed, and you're telling me to stay calm?" My voice started shaking. "Just transfer the money. You can interrogate me however you want afterward."

A woman's voice came through, gentle and clingy.

"Adrian, everyone's waiting for you to blow out the candles."

I froze completely.

"You're celebrating Sophia's birthday?" I could barely force out the words.

He didn't answer that question, only lowered his voice.

"Don't make this public. Today is an important occasion. The family can't afford embarrassment right now."

My anger surged to my head.

"Are you worried about the family, or about her party being disrupted?" I stared at the livestream camera, my eyes burning. "Adrian, I'm your wife."

He paused for a second.

"I'll handle it."

With that, he hung up.

Laughter erupted in the warehouse.

The kidnapper snatched the phone away, looking at the livestream comments. The ease on his face slowly disappeared.

"Looks like the Godfather is very busy tonight." He sneered. "Call again."

I called again. Three times in a row, all directly rejected.

I stared at the cracked phone screen, suddenly feeling an emptiness in my chest.

The wedding scene from three years ago flashed through my mind.

Adrian had stood before me, saying this marriage was a choice, was trust, was the future.

I'd believed him then.

I'd thought I would eventually occupy a real place in his heart.

The kidnapper dragged me outside.

The night wind was cold. The water at the docks was pitch black.

"Ten seconds." He counted down to the camera. "If the money doesn't arrive, we're throwing her in."

I was pressed against the railing, my heart racing but strangely clear-headed.

Someone held a phone in front of me. A news broadcast was playing.

An entire commercial street had been blocked off. Fireworks exploded in the night sky.

Adrian stood in a suit at the center of the lights, Sophia holding his arm.

He leaned down to speak to her, his expression gentle.

My chest constricted violently.

So while I was struggling, he was raising a toast.

"Time's up."

Before I could speak, I was pushed over.

The icy water instantly engulfed me. My hands were bound. I struggled desperately, my lungs feeling like they would burst.

As my consciousness faded, only one thought remained in my mind.

If I survive this, I'm never going back to him.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed. My throat ached terribly, and my chest felt tight.

A nurse held me down, telling me not to move.

"You almost didn't make it."

A middle-aged fisherman stood at the door, nodding at me somewhat awkwardly.

"I happened to be nearby when I saw someone fall in the water, so I pulled you out."

I looked at him, my voice hoarse.

"Thank you. Without you, I'd be dead."

The nurse asked if I wanted to contact family.

I looked at the phone on the bedside table and stayed silent for a long time.

The TV was playing last night's news.

In the footage, he stood under the lights, cutting cake for the woman beside him, a gentle smile on his face.

The host excitedly reported that he'd blocked off an entire commercial street to celebrate his foster sister's birthday—an unprecedented display.

A strange calm settled over me.

Turns out, in his life, I was just a signature on paper.

The day I was discharged, I didn't notify anyone.

Standing at the hospital entrance, I pulled out my backup phone and called my lawyer.

"I want a divorce." I spoke clearly. "Prepare all the documents today, including share divestment."

The lawyer was silent for a few seconds.

"Are you certain? This will affect the entire situation."

I looked up at the video billboard in the distance still playing footage of that birthday party.

"I've already died once."

"This marriage ends here."