The Don Picked His Mistress，I Picked Chicago

The first thing my husband does after I save his empire is hand it to another woman. Luca Delgado once tells me, "Business is business. Feelings don't belong at the table." So when Vance Holdings starts falling apart, I believe him. For three months, I sell the house my mother left me. I sign over my trust shares. I sit through ninety-seven back-room meetings with bankers, loan sharks, union bosses, and men who smile while they break people. I drink whiskey until my stomach bleeds. I beg until my knees shake. At last, I secure a $300 million line of credit. I should be happy. I should run to my husband, throw my arms around him, and tell him I did it. Instead, when I push open the door to the private floor of his club, I find Luca playing a live-action board game with Sasha Reyes. The whole room has been turned into a giant map of our city. Every square on the floor is one of my family's assets. A marina. A hotel. A shipping line. A research lab. A hospital. Every one that has already fallen carries a red pin with Sasha's name on it. Sasha rolls the dice. Six. She squeals and hops forward in her little white dress until she lands on the last lit-up square. "Vance Holdings." My heart stops. Sasha throws herself into Luca's arms and pouts up at him. "Luca, baby, I landed on Wren's spot again." She shakes her empty stack of fake cash. "But I'm broke. I don't have enough game money to buy it. What do I do?" Luca smiles like she is the cutest thing alive. Then he touches the tip of her nose and takes out his phone. One call. That is all it takes. My phone buzzes in my hand. The message from the bank is short. The $300 million credit line has been suspended. Around me, Luca's men cheer. Sasha claps like a spoiled little girl getting a pony. Luca takes a red flag from the table and plants it in the center of the Vance Holdings square. "There," he says. "Now it's worth nothing." He pulls Sasha close and kisses her hair. "My little princess, this territory is yours." --- I stand in the doorway, cold from my scalp to my toes. So this is the truth. Every hole I crawl into hell to fill, my husband digs with his own hands. For her. I wipe the blood from the corner of my mouth and call a number I haven't touched in years. Chicago answers on the second ring. Dorian Kane's voice is low and calm. "Wren?" I look at Luca holding another woman on the ruins of my family. "You once told me if I married you, I'd never have to lower my head and beg anyone again." My voice breaks. "Does that promise still stand?" Behind the door, Luca bends Sasha over a pile of fake cash. The game board crashes. Plastic pieces scatter across the floor. The sounds coming from inside are soft, wet, and disgusting. I hear all of it. But somehow, I hear nothing. My eyes lock on the wall. There is a huge scoreboard hanging there. At first, I think it is part of the game. Then I see my family's name written over and over in thick black marker. It is a death log. Three months of Vance Holdings being gutted, one asset at a time. The last line is still fresh. "Round 97: Vance Holdings. Credit line terminated." Pain tears through my stomach. I grab the wall to stay on my feet. My ulcer starts after the eighth meeting. Back then, Vance Shipping is hit with a sudden contract cancellation. No warning. No reason. Just gone. I need one more day to fix it. So I sit with three men in a private room and drink bottle after bottle of whiskey until I pass out. I wake up in the ICU. Now I know why. Sasha landed on Vance Shipping in round eight. My near-death was not bad luck. It was entertainment. I force myself to read the rest. Round 47: Sasha takes the Vance Grand Hotel. Luca pulls every silent partner the next morning. That is the week a debt collector smashes a bottle against my forehead. The cut still hasn't healed. Round 80: Sasha draws a "freeze funds" card. The next day, every bank shuts us out at once. The ring of burn scars on my hand comes from that night. A man presses his cigar into my skin while another one pours whiskey down my throat and tells me to smile. Three months. Ninety-seven meetings. Every time I come home bruised, drunk, and smelling like smoke, Luca holds me. He strokes my hair. He says, "You win some, you lose some. That's business, baby. None of this is your fault." Now I stare at the bloody little scoreboard and almost laugh. He is right. It is not my fault. My wins and losses have belonged to another woman from the start. "Luca." Sasha's sweet little laugh drags me back. "You're not scared your wife will walk in and find out you destroyed her family just to play with me?" Luca doesn't stop touching her. At the sound of my name, he only gives a lazy laugh. "We'll tell her I was here asking for help for Vance Holdings." His voice is careless. "You know Wren. She believes anything I say." Sasha giggles. "True. She's easy as hell." My fingers dig into the wall. Sasha goes on, almost singing. "Remember the Vance Research Lab? She kneeled outside that club all night in the snow, begging for a meeting. Then you crawled out of my bed the next morning and told her you spent the night fighting for her. She cried in your arms like you were her damn hero." My body locks. The research lab is my mother's life's work. Last month, an anonymous tip brings federal heat down on it. I kneel outside a private club until sunrise because no one will let me in. By morning, my legs are so numb I can't stand. Then Luca comes out. He looks tired. He says he has been pushing all night and finally bought me a chance. I throw myself into his arms. I think, "God, I am lucky. I married a man who would bleed for me." No. That night, he is in bed with Sasha. Sasha's voice drops. "It's my fault. If I hadn't wanted to play this game, Wren wouldn't have suffered so much." Luca kisses her tears away. "Stop it." His voice is so gentle it makes me sick. "If she hadn't gotten pregnant, I would've married you." My hand flies to my stomach. "Before the wedding, I kept you up all night," he says. "The next day, you could barely walk, but you still came to give her your blessing. You're the one who suffered." Sasha starts crying for real now. Then she lifts her face and kisses him. I stand outside the door and remember my wedding. Luca choked up three times during his vows. He stops for so long before saying, "I do," that everyone laughs softly and calls it emotion. I thought he cried because he was happy to marry me. Now I understand. He cried because he couldn't marry her. Inside the room, they kiss like I am already dead. I can't listen anymore. I raise my hand and push the door open.

They freeze. Sasha's lipstick is smeared. Luca's shirt is open. Fake money sticks to his sleeve. When Luca sees me, the heat in his eyes vanishes. He grabs a throw blanket and wraps it around Sasha first. Then he moves in front of her like I am the danger. I stare at him. My throat feels torn open. "You don't have anything to say to me?" His eyes drop to the blood at the corner of my mouth. His brows tighten. For one second, he looks like my husband again. Then he reaches into his suit pocket like he has done a hundred times before and takes out my ulcer meds. He shakes two pills into his palm and holds them to my lips. "Your stomach's bad. Why the hell are you still drinking like that? Are you trying to die?" He is close. Too close. His cologne mixes with the smell of sex and whiskey. My stomach rolls. I shove him away and scream, "Answer me!" The room goes quiet. After a long moment, Luca sighs. "Wren, we got through three months already. Why blow it up now?" He sounds tired. Almost annoyed. "Just act like you don't know. It's better for everyone." He lifts the pills again. "Take your medicine. Be good." I look at him and laugh until tears slide down my face. He knows my stomach is ruined. He keeps pills for me in his pocket. But never once does he stop the game that is killing me. Sasha steps forward with red eyes. "Wren, please don't be mad at Luca." Her voice shakes like she is the victim here. "It's my fault. I'll give everything back. All of it." She grabs a stack of deeds and transfer papers from the table. Her hands tremble. The papers spill across the floor. One lands at my feet. The address stares up at me. 17 Bellhaven Lane. My blood turns to ice. That is the house I sold three months ago. The house my mother left me. Every window, every wall, every little detail was hers. The day I sell it, I sit alone in the empty living room until dark before I can sign my name. Luca holds me afterward. "As long as we're together, anywhere can be home," he says. Then he swears, "I'll buy it back for you. Exactly the way it was." He did buy it back. Not for me. He bought it back as Sasha's prize. I don't remember leaving the club. One second, I am standing over the papers. The next, I am running through the rain toward Bellhaven Lane. I shove open the front door with shaking hands. For one wild second, I think everything is fine. The marble floor is the same. The staircase is the same. The soft gray walls my mother loved are still there. Then I see the living room. Our wedding photo is gone. In its place are framed pictures of Luca and Sasha as kids. Luca at twelve, scowling in a leather jacket. Sasha at ten, smiling with missing teeth. Luca at eighteen, arm around her shoulders. Sasha at twenty, pressed against his side. Pink slippers sit by the door. Two cartoon couple mugs sit by the bathroom sink. My mother's plants are gone from the sunroom. In their place are red roses. Rows and rows of them. Sasha's favorite. The house has not changed. Only every trace of me has been erased. "Wren, are you done losing your mind?" Luca storms in behind me and grabs my wrist. "She won the house. You don't get to come here and throw a fit." I look at him as if from very far away. "This is our home." His face hardens. "It's one damn house. I own half the city. Are you worried you'll have nowhere to sleep?" Behind him, Sasha starts crying again. "If she hates me being here, I'll leave." She turns like she means it. Then she bumps into the nursery door. It swings open. I see the framed ultrasound on the shelf. For a second, my ears ring. Then something inside me snaps. "Luca Delgado," I say, each word sharp as glass. "Did you forget how our baby died?" I point at the room. "You let another woman's baby sleep in his nursery?" Three months ago, Vance Holdings gets hit for the first time. To save a project, I go begging. Men push whiskey into my hand until I stop feeling my face. When I wake up, our baby is gone. That night, Luca holds me and cries until morning. He says he is sorry. He says he should have protected me. Now I know. My child and I were both pieces in his love game with Sasha. Guilt flickers in his eyes. He opens his mouth. Before he can speak, Sasha grabs a fruit knife from the side table. "Luca, if this baby is ruining you and Wren, I won't have it." Then she drives the tip into her lower belly. Blood spreads across her dress. Luca's face goes white. He catches her before she falls. When he turns back to me, his eyes are full of hate. "Wren, happy now?" My chest goes still. "If anything happens to Sasha or the baby, I swear to God, I'll make you pay." Then he lifts Sasha and runs for the door. I watch him leave. No tears come. No screams. Only a strange, dead calm. "Luca," I say. He stops but does not turn. "I want a divorce." He gives a cold laugh. "Don't threaten me with divorce. I don't fall for that crap." The door slams behind him. I sink to the floor. The nursery is open beside me. The house is full of another woman's roses. I take off my wedding ring and hold it in my palm until the diamond bites my skin. Then I whisper to the empty room, "This time, I truly don't want you anymore."

I take off my wedding ring and set it on top of the signed divorce papers. Six years. I give Luca Delgado six years of my life. Then I spend three months learning the truth. That is enough. I leave the house on Bellhaven Lane before the sun comes up. The roses are still in the windows. Sasha's little pink slippers are still by the door. The nursery door is still open behind me. I don't look back. "If I look back, I'll break." So I don't. I drive to my father's house with my head aching and my stomach burning like someone poured acid into it. The Vance estate used to be full of people. Lawyers. Drivers. Guards. Accountants. Men in dark suits waiting for orders. Now it is too quiet. Half the staff is gone. The lights are dim. The old family crest over the front door has a crack through the middle. Vance Holdings is my father's whole life. He builds it from nothing. He turns a dirty dockside trucking route into hotels, ports, medical centers, and shipping lines. He does it the hard way. He does it with blood under his nails. Then Luca turns it into a game board. My father has been sick since the first hit. Every loss takes something from him. When I walk into his room, he looks smaller than he did yesterday. His hands are thin. His face is gray. But when he sees me, light comes back into his cloudy eyes. "Wren," he says. "You're home." I force a smile and sit beside him. "Yeah, Dad. I'm here." He reaches for my hand. His fingers shake. "Did Luca help us?" My throat tightens so hard I can barely breathe. "Is my son-in-law finally helping Vance Holdings through this mess?" I lower my head fast. I can't let him see my eyes. "Yes," I lie. "He helped." My father smiles. The smile cuts me worse than any knife. "I knew it," he says. "That boy loves you. He wouldn't let you suffer." Something hot pushes behind my eyes. I bite my tongue until I taste blood. "Right," I whisper. "He wouldn't." I kneel beside the bed and hold his cold hand between both of mine. "So you have to get better, okay? Vance still needs you. I still need you." Dad nods. He tries to answer. Then his face twists. His hand flies to his chest. "Dad?" He slides sideways off the bed. The heart monitor screams. For one second, I don't move. I just stare. Then I start screaming too. "Nurse! Doctor! Help!" People rush in. Hands shove me back. A doctor checks him and starts barking orders. "He's having a massive heart attack." Another doctor looks at me, pale and sweating. "Miss Vance, he needs to be moved now. His full records and surgical team are at Vance Medical Center. We have to transfer him there." "Then call them," I say. "Now. Call them now." I grab my phone first. My fingers shake so badly I almost drop it. When Vance Medical answers, I nearly sob with relief. "This is Wren Vance. My father is in cardiac arrest. Send an ambulance. Open the cardiac floor. Now." The woman on the phone goes quiet. Too quiet. Then she says, "Miss Vance, I'm sorry." My blood goes cold. "What do you mean, you're sorry?" "The hospital is under emergency ownership transfer. All entrances are sealed. No patients in or out until the handover is complete." For a second, I don't understand English. "What?" "I'm sorry. The order came from Mr. Delgado's office." The room tilts. The war table flashes in my mind. Red pins. Sasha's name. Ninety-seven dead assets. "No," I whisper. "No, no, no." I call Luca. He doesn't answer the first time. Or the second. Or the fifth. When he finally picks up, there is noise behind him. Music. Laughter. Dice rolling across a table. "Luca," I say, choking on every word. "My dad is having a heart attack." He exhales like I have ruined his day. "Wren, stop." I grip the phone so hard my nails bend. "He needs Vance Medical. Your men locked it down. Open it. Please." His voice turns flat. "You threatened me with divorce an hour ago. Now your dad is dying?" "Luca, I am not lying." My voice cracks. "He's dying right in front of me." Before he can answer, Sasha squeals in the background. "Another six!" My stomach drops. Her voice comes closer. "Luca, baby, I landed on Vance Medical Center. I want it. I'm turning it into a luxury beauty clinic." I stop breathing. "You’re playing again?" My own voice sounds strange. Small. Dead. "Luca, no. Not the hospital." I start sobbing. "My father needs that hospital. He really will die." "Enough," Luca snaps. The cold in his voice freezes me in place. "You're using your father's life because you can't stand Sasha winning. When did you get this damn petty?" I stagger back like he hit me. "I am begging you." "Let the transfer go through," he says to someone beside him. "Handle anything else after." Then he comes back to me. "You play the game, you pay the price." The line goes dead. I sink to the floor. The phone slips out of my hand. "You play the game?" A laugh breaks out of me. It sounds ugly. Crazy. "But I never played." I never rolled the dice. I never touched the board. So why am I the one losing everything? The doctors keep working. They push meds. They shock him. They call times and numbers I don't understand. But my father's face gets grayer. His fingers grow colder in mine. I crawl back to the bed and take his hand. "Dad, hold on." My tears fall on his wrist. "Please. Vance needs you. I need you." His eyes open a little. He looks at me with the kind of love that makes my chest cave in. "Wren," he whispers. "Don't lie to me." I freeze. "Vance is gone, isn't it?" I shake my head hard. "No. No, it's not. I can fix it." He lifts his hand with all the strength he has left and wipes my tears. "I don't care about the company." His voice is almost gone. "I only care about you." I press his hand to my face and sob. Years ago, when Luca is thrown out of his own family, my father is the one who backs him. He signs over trust shares. He gives Luca men, money, contacts, and protection. At our wedding, my father puts his hand on Luca's shoulder. "I only have one daughter," he says. "You marry her, you become my son. Treat her well. That's all I ask." Luca kneels in front of him with red eyes. "I swear on my life." I believed him. My father believed him too. The monitor suddenly screams one long, flat sound. My father's hand slips out of mine. "No." I grab him. "Dad?" No answer. "Dad!" The doctors try to pull me back. I don't let go. I throw myself over his chest and scream until my throat tears. But he never opens his eyes again. Outside, sirens finally rise in the distance. Too late. My phone rings. Luca. I stare at the name until the letters blur. Then I answer. His voice is softer now. "The game is over. I was just making Sasha happy. The hospital is important to your father. I won't give it to her." I look at my father's open eyes. My whole body goes numb. "Stop being mad," Luca says. "Take your dad to the hospital." I can barely make a sound. "No need." "What do you mean, no need?" I hang up. A second later, another message comes in. From Chicago. "The promise always stands." "Wren, I'll come get you tomorrow." I lower my forehead to my father's cold hand. For three months, I swallow every scream. Now the tears finally come.