Ten Years, One Abandonment

The nights in Vicente were a coexistence of order and gunfire. Tonight was the wedding, ten years overdue, between Anthony Oliver, the don of the Oliver mafia family, and Mabel Samson, the woman who had stood beside him through bloodshed, betrayals, and underworld wars. A top-tier luxury hotel had been cleared by the family's soldati. Below them glittered a sea of city lights; above them bloomed fireworks commissioned for the future Donna alone. The man known for his ruthlessness knelt on one knee with a rare diamond ring, his eyes filled with rare tenderness. "Mabel," he said, "you walked through hell at my side. Let me give you peace for the rest of your life." It seemed that all the sacrifices and patience had finally led somewhere. However, just as Mabel's fingers were about to touch the ring, a piercing scream came from above. "Don't! Anthony! Save me!" That single cry drew all of Anthony's attention away. The girl was not unfamiliar to Mabel. Two years earlier, Anthony's twin brother had been tortured to death by a rival mafia family while covering his retreat. His body was never recovered. And Cheryl Reyes was the fiancée he had protected with his life. Mabel watched as the man she loved abandoned everything without hesitation and ran toward another woman. She stepped forward and tried to stop him. "Don't go. The wedding isn't over." However, when their eyes met, the Don accused her coldly of being heartless and selfish. And in that moment, Mabel felt tired. Perhaps it was time, just once, to choose herself over the Family. Chapter 1 The diamond ring, worth a fortune, fell to the floor and was kicked away by Anthony Oliver's hurried steps, skidding out of sight. Before Mabel Samson could react, her vision darkened as the man slammed into her shoulder. She wore ten-centimeter heels. Caught off guard, she lost her balance and fell hard. Her palm pressed into the thorns of a rose arrangement, blood spilling instantly. Mabel had stayed by Anthony's side for ten years. She had followed him from the days when he was a hunted, destitute illegitimate son to the man who now ruled the city's underworld as the Don of the Oliver family. She had taken bullets for him and drunk herself into gastric bleeding for him. In the gun battle that cemented the Oliver family's standing, she had driven him out while he lay critically injured and unconscious, carving a path through gunfire to escape. That was life-and-death loyalty etched into bone and blood. Everyone said she was the Don's untouchable weakness. Yet now, he crushed her dignity and abandoned her at their wedding, all to rush Cheryl Reyes to the hospital. The guests' stunned stares and hushed whispers shattered her last illusion. Her throat felt stuffed with cold, wet cotton, suffocating her. The pain in her palm was nothing compared to the chill spreading through her chest. … Late at night, Bastion Manor. When Mabel returned to the main residence, she did not expect to see Cheryl in the master bedroom. The girl was asleep, tear tracks still at the corners of her eyes as she nestled in Anthony's arms, clutching his shirt tightly. Hearing movement, he looked up and made a quiet hush gesture. After tucking the blanket around her, he walked lightly toward Mabel. On the terrace, the moonlight was cold. "How did you get hurt?" Her hand was wrapped in gauze. When he noticed, the familiar concern returned to his face. Mabel pressed her lips together and looked at him with a faint smile. "I fell at the banquet. You were busy saving someone else. You did not see it." Anthony sighed and rubbed his brow. "I know I wronged you tonight. But you saw the situation. Cheryl had a severe stress reaction. If she had jumped, how would I face Zachary in death? "Tonight was only a make-up ceremony. A ring can be replaced. A wedding can be redone. But Cheryl has only one life. "You've been with me ten years. You understand my guilt toward Zachary. Don't make things hard for her, alright?" Mabel suddenly felt short of breath. She stepped away from his touch. The sweet perfume on him made her frown, but she suppressed the nausea. "I wasn't making things hard for her. It just feels too coincidental." Anthony paused. "What do you mean?" "Back then, even you and I did not know Zachary's safe house location. So how did the attackers find it so precisely? "And every time things between us improve, she just happens to fall ill or run into danger." She met his gaze calmly. "Once is an accident. Twice is a coincidence. But again and again? What does that become? "Have you never wondered whether her illness is truly from trauma… or if she fears that without it, you'll forget Zachary and stop caring for her?" Anthony's expression darkened, though he held back his anger. "You're exhausted. That's why you're thinking this way. "Cheryl is Zachary's fiancée. He died protecting her. Doubting her is doubting Zachary's judgment. "The psychologist said people with post-traumatic stress are sensitive. She lacks security, so she depends on the family." His tone softened. "I bought the island you liked. Tomorrow it goes under your name. When Cheryl stabilizes, we'll redo the wedding. I swear before God, nothing will go wrong." As he spoke, his eyes kept drifting toward the master bedroom, worry evident. The pain in Mabel's palm spread into her chest. He was not listening. He only wanted to bury her grievances with money. "No need." She stepped back. Anthony frowned. "You're still angry?" "I already own three islands. I don't need yours. And a wedding without sincerity is just a performance, even if held ten times. "So I don't want compensation." She pointed toward the bedroom. "For her, you left me standing alone at our wedding. "Anthony, ask yourself. Are you truly just protecting your brother's fiancée? Or has your guilt twisted your judgment as the Don?" Embarrassment and anger flashed across his face. "She's Zachary's fiancée! I am his elder brother and the Don of this family. Protecting her is my responsibility! Stop thinking so filthily!" Mabel folded her arms. "Then let me give you one last warning." Her smile vanished. Killing intent surfaced. "Control your brother's fiancée. Tell her to hide those disgraceful thoughts. "What happened today, I'll overlook for Zachary's sake. But if there's a next time…" She looped an arm around his neck, lips near his ear, voice soft yet chilling. "I wouldn't mind honoring her devotion… and sending her to reunite with Zachary sooner." Chapter 2 After the argument, the rain did not let up. Mabel was staring at the curtain of rain, lost in thought, when her Consigliere, Henry Lester, hurried in. "Donna, we've just received word. The Don has sent her to Saint Laurent Manor." The hand holding her wine glass tightened abruptly. That place? Saint Laurent Manor: the residence Anthony had spent three years building, specially commissioning a designer to create it for her. "And…as soon as she moved in, she smashed up the dressing room in your master bedroom. "She said your custom crimson gown looked like blood. It frightened her…and might disturb Mr. Zachary's spirit." Henry was still choosing his words when Mabel lifted her eyes. "So?" "She cut the dress to pieces," he said, unable to look at her. "Laid it in the dog kennel. She said only dogs could drive away evil spirits." Was that really about not disturbing the late Zachary's spirit? That was nothing more than grinding her face into the ground, a blatant declaration of dominance. "Prepare the car." "But the Don specifically instructed—" She shot him a cold glance. "I said, to Saint Laurent Manor." … Mabel's car smashed straight through the manor's front gate, screeching to a halt in front of the main house under the stunned gaze of the Soldati. "Donna! You can't—" "Move." She pushed the doors open and walked straight in, her black coat whipping violently in the rain. The fireplace was blazing. Cheryl, wrapped in Anthony's oversized shirt, was curled up on the sofa. At her feet lay a prized hunting dog. Beneath the dog was a heap of shredded crimson velvet. The gown was a masterpiece hand-stitched by one of Italy's finest tailors. Now it was matted with dog hair and stains. When she saw Mabel storm in, radiating killing intent, the girl jolted in fright. The Rottweiler lunged forward to protect its owner, barking wildly, fangs bared. Mabel's eyes hardened. A silver butterfly knife slid into her palm. The dog howled and fled, tail tucked tight. "Blood! It's bleeding!" Cheryl screamed, clutching her head, but Mabel caught her wrist before she could spiral into another episode. She grabbed a pair of scissors from the table and pressed the blades against the girl's temple. "I hear you love Zachary so much you'd do anything for him. Cutting up my gown for a kennel isn't enough?" Her voice was calm, almost amused. "Why don't I shave your hair and make another cushion out of it?" "No! Help! Anthony! Save me!" Anthony was not coming. She had checked before arriving. At this hour, he was negotiating a weapons deal worth hundreds of millions. Just as she was about to cut the first lock of hair, someone attacked her from behind. A close-quarters disarm technique. She had no time to react. Her shoulder dislocated with a sharp jolt. The scissors flew from her hand and embedded in the wall. She was shoved into a display cabinet and crashed onto shattered glass. Anthony stood there in a bathrobe. His hair was damp, posture still in striking form. The same hands that had once held her had just dislocated her arm without hesitation. "Anthony! I was terrified!" Cheryl rushed into his arms, sobbing. When his gaze landed on Mabel's blood-stained figure, he paused. He stepped forward. "I didn't mean it. You were out of control." "Don't touch me." Mabel twisted away and forced herself up through the glass shards. "When you taught me that move five years ago," she said coldly, "you said it was for enemies. "So tell me, Anthony—am I your enemy now?" Anthony fell silent before softening his tone. "If you really hurt Cheryl, Zachary wouldn't forgive you. The family elders would use it against you. "It's just a gown. "She has trauma. Red reminds her of his death. If you want more, I'll bring the Milan tailor. Ten gowns. A hundred. Why draw a blade over this?" Mabel only felt tired. To him, she was making trouble over nothing. When she refused to yield, his patience thinned. A Don's authority did not welcome defiance. "Everyone in Vicente knows you're the Oliver family's Donna. She just needs protection. Why can't you be generous? Must you disgrace the family before outsiders?" "Anthony…please don't blame Mabel…" "This is my fault… I deserve to die… Zachary's here… I can't breathe…" Her voice faded. "Cheryl! Breathe!" He lifted her in his arms. He noticed the blood near Mabel but still walked out. "Mabel, you disappoint me. "Stay at the manor and reflect. When you've learned, I'll come for you." … She sat alone in the wreckage. After a long silence, she reset her arm with brute force. Pain shot through her, but she swallowed it. Gasping, she whispered, "Anthony. Consider this arm repayment for your teachings. "And I'll show you what true defiance looks like." Chapter 3 Night had already fallen when Anthony returned to Saint Laurent Manor. When he pushed the door open, he saw Mabel sitting on the sofa. The lights were off. Moonlight spilled in through the windows, stretching her silhouette into something lonely and cold. Seeing her like this, his heart softened despite himself. The agitation from earlier ebbed away. He crouched in front of her, lowering his voice. "Does your arm still hurt? I'm sorry. I didn't control my strength. Let me apply the medicine for you." Mabel said nothing, only turning away from his touch. Anthony sighed and took out the gift he had prepared. "The emerald jewelry set you liked at the last auction. "I know you're still upset about Cheryl, but we're family. Don’t let an outsider come between us." She finally reacted, but instead of looking at the jewelry, she reached beneath the cushion and pulled out a stack of documents. "I don't need an apology. Just sign these." On top was a Withdrawal Agreement from the Oliver family. Beneath it lay the divorce papers. "Mabel, are you out of your mind?" Anthony sprang to his feet and slammed the papers onto the coffee table. Pages scattered everywhere, sliding across the floor. "You want a divorce? Over something this trivial? You want to leave the Family? Do you even understand what you're saying?!" Unlike his fury, Mabel simply watched him rage in silence. Then, slowly, she curved her lips into a faint smile. "Anthony, in your eyes, my dignity, my sacrifices, and even my life are all trivial. "Only Cheryl's emotions matter. "Honestly, I'm tired. If you believe she's so fragile she needs your constant protection, then I'll make space for her. As for the Donna position, whoever wants it can take it." "You're just throwing a tantrum!" Anthony laughed in anger, pacing back and forth as he struggled to contain himself. "When did you turn into such a dull housewife, obsessed with catching mistresses all day long? "Cheryl is Zachary's fiancée! Zachary died saving me! Taking care of her is only right! You insist on using morality to tie my hands, forcing me to choose between duty and you… Don't you think that's cruel?" "Cruel?" Her voice was steady, unflinching. "Or is it shameless?" She was not afraid of confrontation, nor did she want to retreat into silence. "You call that taking care of her? What haven't you done personally? If one day she wants a child, will you take responsibility for getting her pregnant, too? "Do you dare to swear in front of Zachary's grave that you don't harbor a single selfish thought toward Cheryl?" "Enough!" Anthony cut her off violently, veins bulging at his temples. "You're blinded by jealousy! The more you talk, the more absurd you sound! Since you can't speak rationally, take a few days to cool off before we talk again!" He stepped on the scattered papers and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. … Late at night. The pain in her right arm kept Mabel awake. She went to look for painkillers. As she passed the study, voices drifted through the crack in the door. "Don, please don’t be angry. The Donna is only reacting so strongly because she cares about you too much. That’s why she’s hostile toward Ms. Reyes." It was Henry, speaking cautiously—her Consigliere, always careful with his words. "Cares about me?" Anthony's voice was heavy with exhaustion and irritation. Even through the door, Mabel could picture him rubbing his brow impatiently. "That's caring for me? That's endless control. "She's spoiled by my indulgence. "She thinks that just because she's fought beside me for ten years, shed blood, and taken injuries, she's earned eternal credit. That I should yield to her in everything. "But has she ever thought that if it weren't for me, she might already have been kidnapped, humiliated, and trampled by countless people?" Henry hesitated. "But…she has been with you through life and death for ten years…" "Whose sacrifice hasn't been ten years?" Anthony shot back without hesitation. "Have I ever treated her poorly?" Unable to stop herself, Mabel leaned closer to the door, wanting to hear more, wanting to hear his true thoughts. "The killing intent around Mabel is too heavy. Being with her, I'm always on edge. She's an excellent partner when things were bloody, but in life, she lacks the softness a woman should have. She's always too hard, too sharp. "But Cheryl is different. She's pure and simple, like a blank sheet of paper. I have to take Zachary's place and protect her." … Mabel did not listen any further. She stood in the shadows, her body going cold, each of his words stabbing straight through her organs, leaving her unable to breathe. So the ten years she had spent fighting and the scars she had borne from shielding him with her body had become proof that she was not a normal woman. He found her tainted. Too hard. Not gentle enough. A butcher stained with blood. When the situation was unstable, he praised her as his right hand, the one who stood beside him to restore the Family’s glory. Now that he sat at the top, he claimed only with Cheryl could he forget the violence and enjoy the peace of an ordinary life. Mabel lowered her gaze, staring at the wound in her palm that had not yet healed, and let out a self-mocking laugh. She did not push the door open to confront him. She did not cry or make a scene. She simply wiped away her tears and turned back toward the bedroom. He was so certain she would not leave? That everything she did was for a tantrum? Anthony was gravely mistaken. In her world, there was no such thing as holding on. Anything that did not belong to her, she would discard without hesitation. Chapter 4 A few days later, it was Anthony’s 30th birthday banquet. It was the grandest event of the year in Vicente. Capos, underbosses, consiglieri, made men, and associates from all sides arrived to pay their respects. In previous years, the woman standing beside Anthony, receiving the congratulations of the crowd, had always been Mabel. However, on that day, the one at his side was Cheryl, dressed in white, smiling softly. She clung to Anthony's arm, her expression shy yet blissful, basking in the spotlight that had once belonged to Mabel. The guests exchanged glances, an unspoken understanding passing between them as whispers spread. "So the rumors are true. The Oliver family’s Donna has fallen out of favor." "Tsk. Men are all the same. Once they’ve made it, who wouldn’t prefer someone young and spotless? Mabel’s hands are stained with too much blood. How could she compare to Ms. Reyes, who looks so gentle?" … Anthony seemed to enjoy Cheryl's dependence. From time to time, he leaned down to murmur in her ear, shielding her from excessive toasts. Just as the atmosphere reached its peak, the grand doors of the hall were shoved open with force. All eyes snapped toward the entrance. Mabel walked in from the backlight. She was not wearing an elaborate gown but a sleek black velvet dress. The high slit revealed long, straight legs. Her lips were a vivid crimson, her hair loose and flowing. She wore no jewelry save for the obsidian ring on her ring finger. Yet the authority unique to the Donna radiated unmistakably from her. Her beauty was sharp, unrestrained, and aggressively dazzling—so striking that it was impossible to look away. The contrast was immediate. Cheryl's face went pale as she instinctively shrank into Anthony's arms. He had not expected Mabel to appear. A flicker of surprise, followed by undisguised admiration, crossed his eyes. Mabel walked straight up to them, casually picked up a glass of red wine, and looked at Cheryl with a faint, mocking smile. "Ms. Reyes, you look beautiful tonight. Anyone who didn't know better might think you're the one marrying into the Oliver family." The girl's eyes reddened. Her voice trembled. "M…Mabel, you've misunderstood. Anthony was only worried I wouldn't adapt to an occasion like this…" "Is that so?" Mabel let out a soft laugh, her tone laced with ridicule. "Zachary is still watching from above. And yet, you can't wait to hold his elder brother's arm, playing social games among power and prestige. That so-called devotion of yours… How cheap it looks." "Enough!" Anthony snapped sharply, stepping in front of Cheryl. His gaze darkened as it locked onto Mabel. "Mabel, it's my birthday. Do you really have to make a scene in front of everyone?" Mabel drained her wine in one go, then slammed the empty glass onto the table. "Anthony, you’re the one doing something disgraceful. Since you're so eager to protect her, I'll give you exactly what you want tonight." With that, she removed the obsidian ring from her finger and tossed it away. The entire hall erupted in shock. That ring symbolized the Donna’s status. How could she throw it away so casually? Mabel turned and walked off without looking back. "If you want it," she said coolly, "crawl over and pick it up yourself." … On the third-floor terrace, the night breeze was cool. Mabel lit a cigarette. She watched the smoke coil upward, blurring the lights and music of the garden below, and felt an oppressive heaviness in her chest. Bastion Manor had already shut her out. She was now an outsider. Soft footsteps sounded behind her. Without turning, Mabel said coldly, "Get lost." "Mabel, why go this far?" Cheryl's voice was light. The timid fragility from earlier was gone. The tears on her face had dried long ago, replaced by a provocative smile. "Anthony only has me in his heart. The more you make trouble, the further you push him away. He said you're too strong, and being around you exhausts him. What he needs is a place to rest, not a reminder of how bloody the past was. You're a comrade-in-arms to him, nothing more." Mabel's fingers paused briefly around her cigarette. Then she let out a cold laugh. "So you're finally done pretending?" Cheryl stepped closer, lowering her voice. "So what if I was pretending? As long as Anthony believes it, that's enough. "Mabel, you're old. Your time is over. Zachary is dead. Those still alive have to move forward." She smiled maliciously. "Tell me, if Zachary knew his brother and his fiancée ended up together, would he crawl out of hell in rage?" Smack. Mabel slapped her hard across the face. "You're not worthy of saying his name." Cheryl's head snapped to the side. She covered her cheek, but instead of anger, a strange smile spread across her face. "Why so angry? Come on, hit me again. The harder you hit, the more Anthony will feel sorry for me." Suddenly, the girl grabbed Mabel's wrist, her eyes wild. Mabel's gaze turned icy. Instinctively, her hand went to her waist. It was a habit; she never went anywhere without a gun. Now, the muzzle pressed squarely against Cheryl's forehead. "Slapping is boring," Mabel said coldly. "I'll send you to your death instead. Seeing a corpse? Now, that will make him truly heartbroken." Her voice dropped to absolute zero. She meant it. She was genuinely prepared to kill. Yet, Cheryl did not retreat in the slightest. Her smile only grew brighter, more twisted. "Do it," she whispered. "Pull the trigger, Mabel. Let Anthony see how you kill the woman Zachary loved most." As she spoke, she suddenly reached out and grabbed the finger Mabel had hooked on the trigger. Mabel's pupils shrank. She did not have time to pull away. Cheryl forced the gun downward, aiming it at her own shoulder, and pulled the trigger. Bang! The gunshot exploded across the terrace. Cheryl screamed, then used the recoil to fling herself backward over the railing, plummeting toward the ground below. "Argh! Help! Mabel! Don't kill me!" The shrill scream tore through the night, drawing gasps from the guests below as they looked up. Mabel stood at the railing, gun still in her hand, staring down at the instantly chaotic crowd. She knew it. This round: she had lost again. All because she was not ruthless enough. Chapter 5 Cheryl did not die from the fall. Of course, she would not. She valued her life far too much. She had only dared to do it because she knew there was a swimming pool below. By the time Anthony arrived, the scene was already in chaos. Cheryl had been pulled from the water. The bloody wound in her shoulder was horrifying to look at. She was barely conscious, her lips trembling as she kept murmuring incoherently, "Don't kill me… Don't kill me…" He lifted his head and looked upward. His gaze collided with that of the expressionless woman standing above. "Mabel!" In Anthony's eyes, there was only a cruel, jealous woman who had fired a gun and tried to kill someone. He handed Cheryl over to the doctors, then strode straight up to the terrace. Using nearly all his strength, he grabbed Mabel by the shoulders. He looked as though he wanted to crush her. "Have you lost your mind?! What did Cheryl ever do to you? How could you bring yourself to do this? You hate her that much? The moment I wasn't watching, you tried to kill her?!" Mabel was shaken so hard her vision swam. The old injury in her shoulder flared up violently, pain forcing cold sweat down her back. However, begging was never an option. She only looked at Anthony coldly, standing on the edge of fury. "I didn't fire the gun. She pulled the trigger herself and jumped. Do you believe that?" It sounded like the biggest joke he had ever heard. The disappointment and revulsion in his eyes swallowed her whole. "What do you take me for? Cheryl can't even stand the sight of blood. She would never touch a gun! She's already hurt like this, and you're still lying, still framing her?! "Just admit it! You're jealous and vicious. You couldn't tolerate her existence!" Mabel had always believed that after all these years of standing shoulder to shoulder, he understood her better than anyone. She never imagined that, in his eyes, she had become a heartless, scheming villain. He did not even bother to uncover the truth. He attacked her first, pressing forward step by step, as if he wished he could kill her himself to vent his rage. At that moment, something inside her died completely. She no longer wanted to explain. Exhaustion crept into her expression. "Think whatever you want." That indifference ignited Anthony completely. He had still clung to a shred of reason, hoping she would explain herself and sincerely apologize to Cheryl. Even if it was just an act to placate him, it would have been enough. However, she did not. She continued to test his limits, relying on the contributions she had made to the family. "Well done, Mabel," he said coldly. "Very well done." He released her. There was no warmth left on his face. "Since you're willing to use such despicable methods against Cheryl, then I have no choice but to deal with you according to the family's rules." He turned toward the Soldati who had rushed over and gave the order without emotion. "Take the Donna to the ice chamber." The moment those words were spoken, the faces of everyone present changed. That was the place where the Oliver family punished traitors. Buried deep underground, it was an ice vault kept at dozens of degrees below freezing year-round. Solid ice sealed all four walls. No light. No sound. Only bone-piercing cold and endless darkness. "Don! She'll die in there! She's still injured!" Her Consigliere, Henry, tried desperately to plead for her. "Take her away." Anthony's tone left no room for negotiation. "When she admits her mistake and is willing to kneel and apologize to Cheryl, then she can come out." There were no instruments of torture in the ice chamber. Isolation and cold were punishment enough. … Mabel curled into a corner, her consciousness blurring as her body temperature dropped. In her daze, she seemed to return to eight years ago. That winter, while protecting Anthony, she had been hunted by enemies and trapped in an abandoned mine deep in the snow-covered mountains. He had held her tightly, unfastened his coat, wrapped her in his arms, and used his own body heat to warm her stiff, freezing limbs. "Mabel, don't fall asleep. Hold on. "When we get out, I'll give you a home. You'll never be cold again." … She feared enclosed spaces without light, nightmares left behind from the years when she had been nothing more than property. Anthony had once been the flame that guided her out of that darkness. However, at that point, the one exploiting her weakness and pushing her into the abyss…was also him. Home had become her prison. Promises had turned into blades pointed at her heart. Time lost all its meaning. She did not know how long had passed when a small window in the iron door slid open, a beam of flashlight cutting through the darkness. "Donna, the Don wants to know if you understand your mistake." Mabel's lips were blue with cold. Her voice was so faint it was barely audible, yet unwavering. "I…did…nothing…wrong. "Cheryl…deserves…to die." The window slammed shut. The cold surged back in. This time, hallucinations began to take hold. She saw Zachary standing before her, his face smeared with blood, crying. She saw Anthony holding a diamond ring, turning away from her to place it on Cheryl's finger. She saw herself lying in a pool of blood, abandoned and unseen. Her body temperature slipped away, bit by bit. Her heartbeat slowed. Mabel knew she was reaching her limit. When the Soldato came again to question her, panic finally broke through. "Get help! Quickly! The Donna…she's not moving anymore!" Chapter 6 When Mabel woke up, only the family doctor was at her bedside, his expression grave as he spoke. "Donna, this time, the cold penetrated deep into your bones and did some damage to your body. On top of that, your old injuries haven't healed yet. From now on, you must rest and avoid all emotional agitation. Absolutely no more shocks. Otherwise…" He stopped himself, sighed, and quietly withdrew. Henry remained standing at the foot of the bed, his expression conflicted—her Consigliere, as always. "Where is he?" she asked. Henry lowered his head, avoiding her eyes. "Ms. Reyes was badly injured. Her fever hasn't gone down, and she keeps calling Mr. Zachary's name. The Don… the Don is still with her." As expected. She had nearly died in the cold room, yet the true instigator was lying comfortably in a special-care ward, receiving her husband's tender attention. Confronting it head-on, she could never defeat Anthony's guilt toward his dead brother. If she continued fighting, all it would do was make Anthony see her as vicious and unbearable, sealing the label of a poisonous woman once and for all. By then, Cheryl would only need to shed a few tears to grind her effortlessly into the dirt. If she wanted to win, she needed a different way to live. "You can go. I want to be alone." Once the bedroom was completely empty, Mabel forced her weakened body out of bed. From a hidden compartment deep inside the wardrobe, she retrieved an old, specially modified phone. It had lain dormant there for many years. After entering a string of numbers she knew by heart, the call was answered almost instantly. The man's voice was still the same: careless, teasing, and dangerous. "Well, what a rare caller. What made you think of me all of a sudden, hm?" "I lost our bet." Sensing something off in her tone, he fell silent for a few seconds before his voice turned serious. "I told you long ago that someone like Anthony has too much room in his heart. He can hold the world, he can hold his brothers… But he can never hold just you alone. You wouldn't listen. You insisted on smashing your head bloody on that dead-end road." She coughed lightly. "So, I accept the loss. I'll give you what you want. In exchange, give me my freedom. "I want to completely sever myself from the Oliver family, from the Don. Give me a clean, unburdened life." "Deal," he replied, his tone brightening. "Then, what's my pledge?" Mabel looked out the window. At Saint Laurent Manor, the roses were in full bloom: lush and vivid, the color of fresh blood. "Next Wednesday. The border waters. The cruise ship Elysium. The Don will personally negotiate that one-billion deal." After hanging up, she snapped the card in half and flushed it down the toilet. Facing the mirror, she practiced a long-forgotten gentle smile. … In the days that followed, everyone noticed that Mabel had changed. She traded sharp tailoring for soft cashmere dresses. The hands that once held weapons now practiced cooking. She even took the initiative to prepare nourishing broths for Cheryl in the kitchen. When Anthony returned home exhausted, waiting for him were a drawn bath and a warm hangover remedy. Mabel helped him remove his coat, her movements light and careful. "You're not angry with me anymore?" he asked. Anthony clasped her hand, surprise and emotion written all over his face. Lowering her gaze to hide the chill in her eyes, Mabel spoke words she did not mean. "I figured things out in the cold room. You're the Don, and I'm your Donna. We're one. Since Cheryl is your brother's widow, she's also my responsibility. I was too narrow-minded before, always arguing with a young girl. That was my fault." "That's wonderful," Anthony said, pulling her into his arms. "I knew it. You understand me better than anyone. You always know what's right." He rejoiced in her newfound 'reasonableness,' never noticing how stiff her body was in his embrace, how absent her affection. To fully lower his guard, she even chose to swallow her anger when Cheryl provoked her. At the dining table, Cheryl deliberately knocked over a bowl of soup, splashing Mabel. "I'm sorry, Mabel. My injuries aren't healed yet, so…" In the past, that would have irked Mabel to no end. However, this time, she simply wiped herself with a napkin and smiled gently. "It's fine. As long as you're not burned." Watching this, Anthony's guilt toward Mabel reached its peak. The opportunity arrived that very evening. Henry was reporting the upcoming schedule. "Next Wednesday, the arms negotiation with the Nordic side will take place in international waters." Anthony nodded. Mabel spoke casually, as if it were an afterthought. "I heard it'll be held on the Elysium. The panoramic stardome on the top deck is one of the best places in the world to see the aurora. It's a shame. A sit-down like that isn't suitable for bringing family along." She spoke as if without any apparent intention. However, someone was listening in. Cheryl, who had been quietly eating, suddenly lit up. "Zachary once promised to take me to see the aurora…" Tears welled instantly as she spoke, her regret carefully performed. "Anthony… May I go in his place?" Anthony hesitated. "Cheryl, it's a business negotiation. It's dangerous." "With you there, I won't be afraid of anything," she said, looking up at him with pure admiration. "And Mabel will be going too, right? I'll stay in my room and won't wander around. Nothing will happen. Please, Anthony." Anthony looked at Mabel. She smiled faintly and served him another bowl of soup. "The Elysium has tight security, and it's hosted similar deals before. What could go wrong? If Cheryl wants to fulfill her wish, let her go. We'll be together at sea; it's safer that way." She soothed Anthony's ego and appeared magnanimous all at once. "Alright. We'll all go together," he said, gripping her hand warmly. "After the deal, we can take a proper vacation on a nearby island." Mabel returned his grip, her smile soft but empty. The trap of life and death was already set. There would be no 'after' for them. Anthony could spend the rest of his life guarding Cheryl. Mabel would not be joining him. Chapter 7 The Elysium was a floating palace at sea. It was luxurious beyond excess. The negotiations went unusually smoothly, so smoothly that even Anthony found it unexpected. The notoriously difficult Nordic arms dealer was uncharacteristically agreeable this time. After signing the contract early, he headed downstairs to the casino for entertainment. Late into the night, disaster struck without warning. An explosion erupted from the lower deck. The massive vessel shuddered violently. "It's an attack! Protect the Don!" Henry roared as he charged forward, but it was already too late. Masked men in black tactical gear swarmed aboard from all sides of the ship. Highly trained and heavily armed, they tore through the outer defenses in seconds, ripping straight through the perimeter soldati. The man at the front pulled off his mask, revealing a face carved with scars. "Poison Scorpion?!" It was the enemy Anthony had battled for years. Two years ago, that very man had brutally killed Zachary. "Don Anthony Oliver," Poison Scorpion said, sneering as he rested his rifle on his shoulder. "Long time no see. To reel in a prize like you, I didn't hold back." In the chaos, Mabel and Cheryl were separated by the crowd. When Anthony finally fought his way out and reached the top deck, the sight before him made his blood boil. The two women were tied to separate support pillars. Explosives were strapped around both of their waists. Red numbers blinked wildly on the timers. Three minutes remaining. "Come on," Poison Scorpion said, twirling a remote control in his hand. "Pick one. "Back then, you hunted me for three straight months over territory. My men died by the dozens. Today, I'll let you taste what it feels like to lose the one you love. "One is the Donna who bled and fought for you. The other is the one you've sworn to protect. "I'm not unreasonable. I'll only kill one. "Whoever you choose to save, I'll stop their detonator. The other one, though…" He smiled viciously. "Boom. Off to meet God." "You wouldn't dare!" Anthony's eyes burned red as he raised his gun. "You can try me," Poison Scorpion replied calmly, his finger hovering over the button. "Let's see whether your bullet or my hand is quicker." Cheryl was already terrified beyond reason, sobbing and thrashing against her restraints. "I don't want to die… I'm so scared… If Zachary were alive, he would save me…" Mabel, by contrast, showed little reaction. She only stared quietly at the dark sea beyond the deck. "Two minutes left," Poison Scorpion said. "Choose now, or they both explode." Anthony was trapped. His younger brother had died for him. The only thing Zachary left behind was Cheryl; he had to protect her. However… What about Mabel? Years ago, to clear obstacles for him, Mabel had deliberately learned explosives and bomb disposal. She was an expert. Cheryl knew nothing. If no one saved her, she would die for certain. A desperate, despicable thought took root in his mind…and instantly won. "One minute!" "Anthony! You promised you'd protect me. You said Zachary wouldn't die for nothing!" "I choose Cheryl!" Anthony shouted. Mabel finally turned her head to look at him. Everything had gone exactly as she expected. There was no need for hysterical accusations. No need for tears. So what if she had fought and bled for him? She was still discarded. "You really didn't disappoint me." She laughed softly, her voice scattered by the sea wind. "Mabel, you know how to defuse bombs! You can do it yourself, right? You'll be fine! I'll save her and then come back for you!" Defusing a bomb required freedom of movement. She was bound hand and foot. Yet, he expected her to save herself. It was almost laughable. Poison Scorpion burst into wild laughter. "Hahaha! What a heartless Don! For the sake of his brother's woman, even his Donna is expendable!" Keeping his word, he quickly cut Cheryl's restraints and shoved her toward Anthony. Then, he kicked Mabel hard in the back, sending her, explosives and all, flying into the depths of the ship. "You've made your choice. Now she dies." "No!" Flames exploded upward. Heat and debris roared through the air, instantly swallowing the direction where Mabel vanished. Half the ship's interior collapsed under the blast. Fire lit up the night sky and reflected in Anthony's eyes, burning them red with despair.