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The Mafia Don's Regret: Too Late To Love Novel Cover

The Mafia Don's Regret: Too Late To Love

My husband, the city's most ruthless Don, left me standing at the altar to comfort a woman with a sprained ankle. I thought our marriage was a protection pact, but when a kidnapper held a knife to his childhood sweetheart’s throat on a rooftop, Cedric made his choice. He physically shoved me—his pregnant wife—toward the blade to save her. I survived the fall, but our unborn baby didn't. Yet, there was no apology. Blinded by her lies, Cedric accused me of staging the attack out of jealousy. He had me thrown into the family dungeon, where I was beaten while still bleeding from the miscarriage. He didn't know two things. First, that his "perfect" sweetheart had voluntarily sterilized herself years ago and could never give him the heir he craved. Second, that I had terminal cardiomyopathy. My heart had an expiration date, and I had only days left to live. On my 27th birthday, I asked him for one final kindness: a midnight ride on the Ferris wheel where we had our first date. He promised to be there, but he was late again, attending to her needs. So I went up alone. When the carriage came back down, it was empty. All I left behind were my shoes and a medical file that would destroy him.
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Chapter 1

My husband, the city's most ruthless Don, left me standing at the altar to comfort a woman with a sprained ankle.

I thought our marriage was a protection pact, but when a kidnapper held a knife to his childhood sweetheart’s throat on a rooftop, Cedric made his choice.

He physically shoved me—his pregnant wife—toward the blade to save her.

I survived the fall, but our unborn baby didn't.

Yet, there was no apology.

Blinded by her lies, Cedric accused me of staging the attack out of jealousy. He had me thrown into the family dungeon, where I was beaten while still bleeding from the miscarriage.

He didn't know two things.

First, that his "perfect" sweetheart had voluntarily sterilized herself years ago and could never give him the heir he craved.

Second, that I had terminal cardiomyopathy. My heart had an expiration date, and I had only days left to live.

On my 27th birthday, I asked him for one final kindness: a midnight ride on the Ferris wheel where we had our first date.

He promised to be there, but he was late again, attending to her needs.

So I went up alone.

When the carriage came back down, it was empty.

All I left behind were my shoes and a medical file that would destroy him.

Chapter 1

Kacie Oliver POV

My husband didn't kiss me when the priest gave him permission.

Instead, he checked his phone. I watched the blood drain from his face before he turned and ran out of the church without a single backward glance.

He left me standing at the altar with a heavy diamond weighing down my finger and the heat of a thousand pitying stares burning into my back.

Now, hours later, I sat on the edge of the mattress in the Master Suite of the Moon Estate.

The silk of my wedding dress had turned from a luxury into a cage. The corset dug mercilessly into my ribs, restricting the breath my failing heart already struggled to pump.

Three years.

That was the expiration date the doctors gave me. Cardiomyopathy. My heart was a traitor in my own chest, expanding and weakening until the day it would simply give up.

I didn't want to wither away. I wanted to burn bright before the darkness took me. I wanted danger. I wanted passion. I wanted Cedric Moon.

The door creaked open.

I didn't turn around. The scent hit me first-gunpowder, exhaust fumes, and the sharp, metallic tang of copper.

It was the smell of the Capo dei Capi, the Don of the Moon Crime Family. The smell of a man who held the city's underworld in a chokehold.

"You're still dressed," Cedric said. His voice was a low rumble, rough as gravel under tires.

I looked at the clock on the bedside table. 3:00 AM.

"I was waiting for my husband," I said, my voice quiet but steady. "I thought he might show up to his own wedding night."

Cedric walked into my line of sight. He was tearing off his tuxedo jacket, tossing it carelessly onto a velvet chair. His white shirt was stained with something dark on the sleeve. Not wine.

"It was a Code Red, Kacie. You know what that means."

"I know it means Jayden called you," I said.

He froze, his fingers pausing on the buttons of his shirt. He looked at me then-really looked at me-with those icy blue eyes that had terrified rival Dons into submission.

"She was in a convoy. Ambushed. It was a targeted hit."

"Was she hurt?"

"A sprained ankle. Shock."

I let out a dry, humorless laugh. He had abandoned me at the altar, humiliated me in front of the entire Outfit, the Russians, and the Triads... for a sprained ankle.

"I stood there, Cedric. For an hour. Your mother told the guests I was feeling faint because of my condition. She told them I was the weak link."

He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "My mother is traditional. She protects the family image. And Jayden... her father took a bullet for me. He died so I could stand here today. I swore a Blood Oath to protect his daughter. That comes first. Always."

Always.

The word tasted like ash.

I remembered the night we met. It wasn't a fairy tale. I had crashed an underground casino gala, looking for trouble, looking to feel alive.

I found him in a VIP corridor, stumbling, his skin gray. Neurotoxin. A rival family had dosed him.

Any sane person would have run. Instead, I dragged him into a supply closet. I kept him awake. I dialed the private doctor number on his burner phone. I saved the life of the most dangerous man in the city.

He had looked at me then with a possessive intensity that made my weak heart stutter. He married me to protect me from the enemies who saw my face that night. A Protection Pact.

But looking at him now, washing the blood of his enemies off his hands in the en-suite sink, I realized the protection only went one way.

"Take the dress off, Kacie," he ordered. It wasn't unkind, but it carried the weight of a man used to being obeyed. "It's late."

"Did you carry her?" I asked.

He paused, water dripping from his hands. "What?"

"Jayden. Did you carry her out of the wreckage?"

"She couldn't walk," he said defensively.

I remembered the way he carried her two weeks ago when she stubbed her toe at a barbecue. Like she was glass. Like she was the one made of porcelain, not the woman with the dying heart.

"I see," I whispered.

I stood up, my legs trembling. I reached for the zipper at my back, but my fingers couldn't find purchase.

Cedric was there in an instant. His large, calloused hands brushed my skin, sending a jolt of electricity down my spine. This was the drug I was addicted to. His touch.

He pulled the zipper down slowly. The dress pooled at my feet.

"You are my wife," he murmured against my ear, his breath hot. "You carry the Moon name now. No one can touch you."

"Except you," I said.

"Especially me."

He kissed my shoulder, his lips lingering on the pulse point. For a second-just a second-I let myself believe the lie. I let myself believe that the heat in his eyes was love, and not just the obligation of a debt he felt he owed me.

Then, his phone buzzed on the dresser.

He pulled away immediately. The cold air hit my skin like a physical slap.

He looked at the screen. His jaw tightened.

"I have to take this," he said, turning his back on me. "Go to sleep, Kacie."

I watched him walk out to the balcony, answering the call on the first ring.

"Jayden, calm down," he said, his voice dropping to that soothing, gentle tone he never used with me.

I stood alone in the center of the room, naked and shivering, realizing that the three years I had left were going to feel like an eternity in hell.

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