The Mafia Wife Who Abandoned Her Daughter’s Memory for Her Lover

"Mr. Vincent, someone is looking for Boss Sophia, saying she didn't show up for tonight!"

At two in the morning, the shrill ring of the telephone shattered the tranquility of the rainy night in Chicago.

I woke up suddenly from my bed.

Cooperation within the Mafia is never allowed to go awry. I thought it was an enemy trying to take advantage of the situation, so I didn't even have time to put on my clothes properly. I grabbed a thin shirt and rushed into the rain.

Pushing open the heavy door to the casino's VIP room, I braced myself for a shootout.

But the scene before me was like a resounding slap across the face.

There were no enemies, and no ambushes.

Amidst the chaos, scattered white chrysanthemums and offerings littered the ground.

A male college student who looks to be under twenty is throwing a tantrum.

He was wearing a bespoke shirt that seemed completely out of place for his age, and on the ring finger of his left hand, he was wearing a custom-made wedding ring that was exactly the same as mine.

And his leather shoes were firmly planted on my daughter Lily's black and white portrait.

The glass of the picture frame shattered on the ground, piercing Lily's smiling face.

"Who told Sophia not to come see me at midnight? I'm going to make a scene!" The boy kicked the candlestick next to him impatiently.

Several casino managers who were usually ruthless killers were now too afraid to even breathe, and were groveling and coaxing him from the sidelines.

"Who is this?" I stared intently at the portrait, my voice so cold it could shatter ice.

The manager trembled with fear, stammering and wiping his sweat repeatedly: "Mr. Vincent... this is Marco Vitale, a student at the University of Chicago. He... he's recently become a favorite of the boss."

I felt ice cold all over.

Sofia is my wife and the Chicago Mafia Queen.

Twenty-eight-year-old Sofia had just wiped out the last dissent from her gang with blood.

Today, she owns 52 docks and 26 underground casinos in Chicago, making a fortune every day.

That year, I thought our lives could finally settle down.

Sofia even personally promised me that once we had complete control of Chicago, we would have another child to make up for the trauma of our daughter Lily's untimely death.

I've been looking forward to the arrival of this child.

Unexpectedly, her lover was the first to arrive.

Anger surged to my head, and I strode forward.

My shoulder was suddenly slammed open.

"Get out of the way."

Sofia arrived, bringing with her the storm and her signature imposing presence.

She didn't even glance at me, who had been pushed aside, and walked straight towards the boy who was causing trouble on Lily's portrait.

"My little darling, why are you throwing such a tantrum?" This fearsome mafia queen actually reached out and affectionately stroked Marco's nose.

Marco snorted coldly.

Sofia leaned close to his ear and whispered soothingly, "Today is Lily's death anniversary, and I couldn't leave. But I came to see you as soon as it was over."

My heart felt as if it had been brutally shredded by a rusty, blunt knife.

Today is the anniversary of Lily's death. She abandoned me and her daughter's spirit to come here and coax a male college student.

"Sophia," I gritted my teeth and called out her name.

She then turned her head, as if she had just noticed my presence. After a slight surprise, she smiled nonchalantly.

"Vincent, what are you doing here?" She tidied her hair. "Did I bump into you earlier?"

She paused for a moment, then added, "Marco is still young, don't hold a grudge against a child."

Don't bother arguing with a child! He stepped on our daughter's face!

Suddenly, the vow we made in the church years ago flashed through my mind—"We will never betray each other in this life. If either of us lies, may we be left to die in the streets."

Without saying a word, I grabbed the unopened bottle of liquor from the bar and strode forward.

The hard bottom of the bottle slammed into Marco's forehead, shattering the glass and causing the amber-colored liquor to explode with blood.

"Ah—!" Marco clutched his head, letting out a shrill scream as blood gushed wildly down his young face.

"Are you crazy?!"

Sofia frowned and shoved me away.

“Marco!” She covered the boy’s wound with her handkerchief, turned her head, and glared at me fiercely. “Vincent, what’s wrong with you? Why are you arguing with him!”

I couldn't help but let out a cold laugh, my knuckles cracking as I clenched my fists.

I pointed to the portrait on the ground, "Have you forgotten what illness Lily had? We were being hunted down by the Irish gang back then..."

"Shut up!" Sofia's expression changed drastically, and she quickly covered Marco's ears.

She looked at the trembling boy in her arms, her tone full of displeasure and reproach: "Don't talk about these bloody things in front of him. He's not like you; he's still a student!"

I am different from him.

Yes, I'm a worthless person who could take a bullet for her, while he's a student who needs to be pampered and have his ears covered.

Marco clung tightly to Sofia's clothes, crying and wailing in pain.

Sofia coaxed and coaxed him to his feet, then told the bodyguards to prepare to go to the hospital.

After the crowd dispersed, only a mess remained in the VIP room.

Sofia paused as she passed by me.

She sighed and placed the gold ring, which symbolized the highest power in the Rossi family, into my hand.

"Vincent, stop being stubborn. You know that you're the only person I love, and no one can take your place."

She looked at me with a self-righteous gaze: "I've fought hard for half my life, climbing over countless corpses to get to where I am today. Now I'm tired, I just want to make myself feel better and find something new to relieve stress."

Decompression, a sense of novelty.

I looked down at the cold gold ring in my hand, then at the crushed photo of Lily on the ground.

Back then, Sophia and I were hiding from Irish gangs with our daughter Lily, who was less than a year old. We were constantly on the run and didn't dare go to the hospital.

Lily fell ill, and because we dared not show our faces, we delayed her treatment, which caused her to develop chronic health problems, and her body is getting worse and worse.

That day, covered in blood, Sofia swore to the heavens that she would avenge Lily.

After Lily died, she solemnly promised that once things settled down, they would have another child and start over.

Now, she's telling me with this blood-stained ring that she just wanted to feel better.

I took a deep breath, exhaling all the stale air and the last trace of lingering attachment from my lungs.

"Sophia, let's get a divorce." I looked at her back, my voice so calm that even I was surprised.

But she didn't hear it at all.

"Bring the car over." Sofia frowned, casually covering the blood on Marco's forehead with a handkerchief, her tone reassuring. "It's alright, it's just a little blood. I'll take you to the hospital."

She put her arm around Marco's shoulder, didn't even turn her head, and walked straight into the rainy night.