I Want My Wife Back

​I stood at the window of my room, staring out at the cold night lights of Italy, my body still aching from yesterday's beating.

​Suddenly, a sharp knock rattled the door.

​"Come in," I called out.

​Marco, my husband's right-hand man, stepped inside. He looked at me, his hard expression softening just a fraction with something dangerously close to pity. "The Don wants to see you in his office," he said quietly before turning and walking away.

​What had I done now?

​I braced myself, fighting the trembling in my legs as I walked out of my room and made my way down the grand corridor to his study. Without waiting, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

​Xavier sat behind his massive mahogany desk, glaring at me with eyes full of venom. He shoved a brown envelope across the polished wood.

​"What is this?" I asked, picking it up with shaky hands. I pulled out the contents, and my breath caught violently in my throat. My eyes widened in absolute shock. "Divorce papers?!"

​I stared at him, my mind spinning. "I know you're daft, Elena, but have you suddenly become blind?" he mocked, standing up and closing the distance between us.

​I scrambled backward, but he lunged forward, grabbing my wrist with a violent, crushing grip.

​"You slut!" he roared.

​"What do you mean?!" I cried out, utterly unable to process his words.

​"You think I wouldn't find out, huh?" he snarled, tightening his grip until bones ground together.

​"Xavier, you're hurting me!" I sobbed, hot tears spilling down my cheeks.

​"I'll do a hell of a lot more than that if you don't sign those papers!" Xavier snapped, his voice cutting through the silent room like a razor blade.

​"I don't understand why you're doing this, Xavier. I've done nothing wrong," I whispered, my voice shaking uncontrollably.

​"You've done nothing?" Xavier sneered. With a flick of his wrist, he whipped out his phone and hurled it onto the sofa right next to me.

​With trembling fingers, I picked it up, staring down at the screen. My heart stopped. Staring back at me were explicit, undeniable photos of myself wrapped in the arms of a completely strange man.

​"What?! This... this is fake! I would never do this to you, Xavier. I'm not stupid enough to cheat on you!" I cried, forcing myself to stand tall and look him in the eyes.

​Before I could even blink, his hand flashed through the air.

​Crack.

​A sharp, stinging slap cracked across my face, sending me stumbling violently backward. The bitter, metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. It was a norm for him by now; I had long since grown used to the physical abuse. But the sickening lies surrounding it today burned deeper than any physical blow.

​"So this is what you do when you claim to go to the mall or get your hair done?" Xavier sneered, looming over me. "After everything I've done for you? Without me, would you even have such wealth over your head, you stinking orphan?!"

​"Please, don't do this," I begged, sliding down to my knees on the cold marble floor. I swallowed every ounce of my remaining pride, sobbing openly. "I have no family. I have absolutely nowhere to go."

​Because it was true. I had nothing-not even a single coin of my own to survive on.

​Suddenly, the cold, metallic click of a gun echoed through the room. I snapped my head up to see the dark, terrifying barrel of a pistol pointed directly between my eyes.

​"Listen to me, please, these pictures are photoshopped-"

​"Photoshopped? No, they're not. Mia would never make something like this up!" Xavier screamed, his eyes completely bloodshot with murderous rage. He looked demonic. He was a mafia lord, and I knew that specific look all too well. It was the face he wore right before he ended a life. "If you do not sign those papers right this instant, I'm going to blow your brains out!"

​"Fine... Fine, I'll sign it!" I choked out, sheer terror overriding everything else.

​Shakily, I gripped the pen. My hand shook so hard the ink nearly tore through the paper, but I forced my signature onto the dotted line, signing away my marriage even though I was completely, utterly innocent.

​"Now get out," he spat, his voice dripping with pure hatred. "And if I ever see your face anywhere near my territory again, I will end your life."

​"At least... at least let me pack my bags," I pleaded through fresh tears.

​"No! I picked you up from the gutters, and that's exactly where you're going back to-with absolutely nothing! Out!"

​Driven out by his fury, I fled the office and walked out of the mansion looking completely dejected. I had nothing left in the world except the thin clothes on my back. Not a single coin. Not even my phone.

​The moment I passed the heavy iron gates of the estate and sank out of the sight of the security cameras, my knees finally gave out. I collapsed onto the pavement, sobbing bitterly into my hands. What did I ever do to deserve a monster like him? How did my life become such a nightmare?

​As if the universe was mocking my misery, the sky darkened instantly, and the weather turned. Within minutes, a torrential storm broke out. I stumbled blindly along the dark highway, shivering violently as I tried to find any sort of shelter. Luxury cars sped past, splashing freezing muddy water all over me.

​Then, a pair of blinding headlights rounded the corner. Tires screeched violently. A massive black SUV veered close, missing me by mere inches. The sheer shock of the near-miss, combined with my freezing, starved, and exhausted body, was too much. Dark spots flooded my vision, and I passed out cold right there on the dark streets.

​When I finally blinked my eyes open, the harsh storm was gone.

​I was lying in an impossibly soft, luxurious bed inside a sprawling, beautifully furnished room draped in rich silks. Sitting in a leather chair beside the bed was a tall, strikingly handsome man. There was something about the sharp angles of his jaw and his piercing, predatory gaze that felt terrifyingly familiar.

​"Am I... am I dead?" I whispered, fear instantly gripping my chest.

​"No, love. You just passed out," he replied, his deep, smooth voice echoing quietly in the spacious room. His dark eyes scanned me from head to toe, slow and calculating, assessing me like a prize he had just acquired.

​I pulled the heavy duvet tighter around myself, suddenly noticing something that made my blood run cold. "Ehhhm... how am I in different clothes?"

​The man's lips slowly curled into a dangerous, slow-burn smirk. "Relax, love. I didn't do it myself. One of my maids changed you."

​I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, though the tension in the room remained thick enough to cut with a knife.

​"So tell me," he murmured, leaning forward, his broad shoulders casting an imposing shadow over the bed. "What was a pretty girl like you doing all alone on the highway in the middle of a killer thunderstorm?"

​"It's... it's complicated," I stammered, shrinking back against the pillows. "I had nowhere else to go."

​"I can only help you if you tell me the truth," he said softly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he closed the distance.

​Maybe it was the lingering trauma of the night, or maybe it was because he had literally saved my life, but the internal dam broke. I burst into tears and narrated the entire horrific ordeal to this complete stranger. I told him about Mia's photos, the framed divorce, the gun, and being thrown out into the rain with nothing.

​"How could a man look at such a pretty flower and choose to crush it?" he murmured, his gaze intensifying as he watched the tears roll down my cheeks.

​"I don't know," I wiped my face with a trembling hand, a numb wave of exhaustion washing over me. "Maybe it's for the best. The marriage wasn't going well for me anyway." I shuddered, remembering the countless times Xavier's fists had bruised my skin, and the endless parade of women he flaunted-especially that vicious, plotting Mia.

​The stranger let out a low, dark chuckle. "Xavier has always been a fool."

​My breath caught violently in my throat. My eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated horror.

​"What? How... how do you know his name? Who are you?" I demanded, my heart hammering against my ribs as pure terror flooded my veins.

​"You still can't place me, Elena? Think again," he smirked, locking his dark, predatory eyes onto mine.

​I stared hard at his face-the aristocratic nose, the ruthless smirk, the chilling aura of absolute, terrifying power. Suddenly, a memory from a high-society mafia gala years ago clicked into place.

​My blood turned completely to ice.

​"Oh, my gosh!" I gasped, scrambling backward off the bed and hitting the opposite wall as I stared at him in horror. "I know you!"

​"Of course you do, love," he laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that sent icy shivers straight down my spine.

​He stood up to his full, towering height, watching my panic like a wolf cornering its prey.

​Alexander Sterling.

​What have I gotten myself into? I thought frantically, my body shaking uncontrollably. Out of the frying pan, straight into the dragon's den.