Chapter 1Blood Vows and Broken Ribs

Damian Blackwood, the notorious mafia lord, threw himself over me, using his body to shield me from the explosion.

He lay in the rubble, drenched in blood, yet he smiled.

"Kira, don't cry. Trading twelve broken ribs so you'll remember me for the rest of your life? That's a bargain."

After returning home, I developed severe PTSD, waking from nightmares every night.

He left the underworld behind, washed away the bloodstains, and became the gentlest version of himself.

After our wedding, he tattooed my name over the scar on his chest, promising to love me forever.

Until that night, when I woke from another nightmare to find him missing from our bedroom.

Through the study door, I saw him slip his hands beneath a girl's skirt, his voice hoarse as he coaxed her.

"Baby, relax."

The man I'd worshipped like a god was having sex with someone else when I needed him most.

I raised my gun with a smile, aiming it at my own heart.

"Damian Blackwood. Divorce or widowhood. Pick one."

The sounds inside the room stopped abruptly.

Damian's movements froze. He turned slowly.

The desire in his eyes hadn't faded yet, but when he saw the gun pressed against my chest, his gaze instantly turned to ice.

The girl emerged from his embrace, her face pure and innocent, eyes timid like a frightened deer.

Damian casually positioned himself to shield her, smoothing down her skirt.

He stood and walked toward me step by step, his voice gentle as always.

"Kira, stop this. Put the gun down."

I laughed.

Stop this?

My finger moved to the trigger.

"I'm giving you three seconds."

His brow furrowed, cracks finally appearing in that gentle facade.

"Kira, you know I don't like having guns pointed at me."

"And you know I like it even less when someone points a gun at you."

The girl called Violet suddenly burst into tears, rushing out from behind him to kneel before me.

"Kira, don't blame Damian. This is all my fault. I seduced him. Kill me if you want, but don't hurt him."

She cried beautifully, pitifully.

Damian's expression darkened completely.

He lunged forward, his wrist twisting with practiced precision to disarm me.

We'd drilled this move countless times on the edge of life and death.

Only this time, I was his target.

The gun fell silently onto the carpet.

He gripped my wrist, his fingers pressing hard enough to crush bone.

"She's just an innocent girl, not like us. Don't scare her."

I looked at him.

The tenderness and reproach in his eyes weren't for me.

I raised my other hand and slapped him hard across the face.

"Damian Blackwood, I'll make this easy for you."

I turned to leave.

He pulled me into his arms from behind, his burning chest pressed against my back, panic in his voice.

"Kira, don't go. I'll make her disappear. You'll never see her again."

I didn't turn around. My voice was calm.

"Don't bother."

The moment I finished speaking, I jerked my elbow back, slamming it into the old wound on his chest with all my strength.

He grunted and released me.

I didn't pause for a second. I walked straight to the study and retrieved the divorce papers I'd prepared long ago.

I'd drafted them after my first episode following our marriage.

But he'd said then that divorce would only happen over his dead body.

I never imagined these papers would come in handy at such an absurd moment.

By the time I returned to the living room, Violet was gone.

Damian sat on the sofa, half his face hidden in shadow, an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

When he saw me, he looked up.

Those eyes that had once shielded me from the world's storms were now filled with exhaustion.

"I won't sign. Kira, there's no divorce between us."

I threw the papers in his face.

"Then widowhood it is."