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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 2

Kacie Oliver POV

I woke up to the sound of the shower running.

My body felt heavy, anchored to the mattress by a fatigue that went deeper than my bones. Groaning softly, I rolled over, reaching for the space beside me. Empty.

The sheets were cold. Cedric hadn't slept in the bed.

A quick glance confirmed he had slept in the armchair by the window, fully clothed, with his gun resting on the side table like a dark sentinel.

I got up and walked to the bathroom door. It was slightly ajar. Steam billowed out, carrying the scent of cedar and expensive soap.

I pushed the door open. Cedric stood under the spray, his head bowed against the tiles. The water sluiced over the scars on his back-a map of violence and survival.

"Cedric?"

He turned. His eyes were red-rimmed and haunted. He looked exhausted.

"You're awake," he said, his voice rough.

I stepped into the shower with him, still wearing my silk robe. The water soaked through the fabric instantly, plastering it to my skin like a second layer. I didn't care. I needed to feel him. I needed to know he was real.

He pulled me against him, his wet hands gripping my waist with bruising force. He kissed me, hard. It wasn't gentle. It was aggressive, desperate, like he was trying to mark his territory.

"We'll have a real wedding," he muttered against my lips, his hands roaming over my body. "Later. When things settle down. We'll fill this house with sons. Heirs for the Family."

I clung to him, my nails digging into his shoulders. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to be the mother of his children, even if my heart gave out in the process.

"Cedric," I gasped, pulling back slightly. "We need to talk about Jayden."

His body went rigid against mine. The passion evaporated instantly, replaced by cold stone.

"Not now, Kacie."

"Yes, now. She was outside the door last night. I heard her footsteps. She's suffocating us."

With a sharp twist of the handle, he turned off the water and stepped out, snatching a towel. "She's traumatized. Someone tried to kill her yesterday."

"Someone is always trying to kill someone in your world," I said, wringing out my robe as water pooled at my feet. "Transfer her. Send her to the West Coast division. She can be safe there."

Cedric whipped around, his eyes flashing. "She is family. I don't exile family."

"She's not your sister, Cedric. And she doesn't look at you like a brother."

"You're being unreasonable," he snapped. "Jealousy doesn't suit you. It makes you look weak."

Weak. The one thing I couldn't afford to be.

The day passed in a blur of silence, but by evening, the tension had simmered down into a fragile truce.

Cedric had set up a projector in the bedroom. He turned off the lights, and the ceiling filled with a swirling nebula of purple and blue stars.

It was a gesture. A small one, but it was something.

"I'm sorry about the reception," he said, lying beside me on the bed, staring up at the artificial galaxy. "I know it hurt you."

I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. A strong heart. "It did."

"I'll make it up to you."

Suddenly, his burner phone rang. The harsh, jarring sound shattered the peace.

I felt his muscles tense beneath my cheek. He didn't even look at the caller ID. He just answered.

"Jayden? What is it?"

I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest. I could hear her frantic sobbing through the speaker.

"They're saying things, Cedric! The men... they're saying I staged the ambush. They're saying Kacie told them to say it!"

Cedric sat up slowly. The air in the room dropped ten degrees.

"Who is saying that?"

"Everyone! It's all over the internal comms. Kacie is leaking secrets, Cedric! She's trying to push me out!"

He hung up the phone and looked at me. The tenderness was gone. In its place was the cold, calculating stare of the Don.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"I didn't do anything," I said, my voice shaking. "I've been here with you."

"You have access to my laptop. Did you send messages? Did you start these rumors?"

"No! Cedric, she's lying. She's manipulating you."

He stood up, grabbing my arm. His grip was tight, bordering on painful. "Get dressed. We're going to the hospital."

"Why?"

"You're going to apologize to her. Publicly. You're going to tell the men that you respect the hierarchy and that Jayden is untouchable."

"I won't," I said, pulling against his grip. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"You will do it because I am your husband and I am your Don," he growled. "Get in the car."

The ride to the hospital was silent. I stared out the window, watching the city blur past like a bad dream.

When we arrived at her private suite, Jayden was sitting up in bed, looking perfectly manicured for someone who had just survived an assassination attempt. Her hair was flawless, her skin pristine.

When she saw Cedric, she burst into fresh tears.

Cedric let go of my arm and rushed to her side. He stepped between us, his broad back blocking my view of her, shielding her from me as if I were the villain.

I stood by the door, tasting the bitterness of truth on my tongue.

The Don protects what he values.

And he wasn't protecting me.

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