I Sold His Gifts To Leave My Mafia Husband Chapter 01
After Matteo betrayed our marriage, I didn’t make a scene.
I did only one thing.
Every time he spent the night away from home, I went to the Vitale family’s preferred jeweler and sold one of the gifts he’d given me.
A necklace. A watch. A handbag. A pair of earrings.
Each payment went straight into a private account I’d opened before we were married.
Six months. Forty-seven items.
On the day I sold the last of them, I placed the agreement ending our marriage and relinquishing my spousal protection on the dining table.
Matteo didn’t even read it. He just smiled and signed his name.
“Sure, Daisy. Go ahead. Just don’t come to regret it. No more of my credit cards, no more Vitale family protection. I’ll be waiting for you to come crawling back.”
I said nothing. I just pointed to the empty wall behind him.
Six months ago, twenty-three photographs of us had hung there.
He hadn’t even noticed they were gone.
…
After Matteo started spending his nights elsewhere, I didn’t storm into one of his business dinners or send men to smash up the apartment where he took her. I chose silence.
Every time he stayed out, I took another one of his gifts to the family’s jeweler first thing the next morning.
The diamond necklace from our anniversary. The gold bracelet from Valentine’s Day. The emerald studs from my birthday.
The first time, the manager behind the counter looked stunned.
“These were all personal gifts from Mr. Vitale. If you sell them back, we can wire the money directly to your account. Are you certain?”
“I’m certain. Draw up the buyback slip.”
One by one.
Week by week.
Six months.
Forty-seven items.
The money went into my private account. Matteo didn’t know it existed, and he didn’t know the pastry certification I’d earned before our marriage was still valid.
In the end, all that remained were my wedding ring and the protection ring—the one the Vitale family gives to a deputy’s wife. The first belonged to our marriage. The second represented my status and my right to move safely through their world.
Ours hadn’t been a political marriage. It had nothing to do with the docks or with territory. At least, back then, he’d said he loved me.
I took off my wedding ring first.
Then the protection ring.
I laid both rings side by side on the first page of the agreement.
I pushed the papers toward Matteo.
He had just come home, his black suit carrying the cool, unfamiliar scent of another woman’s perfume.
He glanced down, skimmed the document, and laughed.
“This again? You said you were leaving last month, too.”
“I didn’t hand you an agreement last month.” I sat at the dining table, my hands resting on its surface. “This time is different.”
“What’s different?”
He loosened his tie but didn’t sit down.
He picked up a pen and signed the last page without a flicker of hesitation.
The document finalized our divorce and authorized the Family adviser to register my voluntary withdrawal from spousal protection. Once Matteo signed, he lost the right to drag me back under the title of his wife.
He tossed the pen onto the table. It rolled off the edge and clattered to the floor.
“Daisy, be smart.” Matteo looked down at me. “Without me, you’re nothing. No family, no allies, not even a credit card I don’t know about.”
“I have one.”
I pulled a debit card from my pocket.
“Forty-seven gifts, plus my own savings. It’s more than enough for my grandmother and me to live on for a very long time.”
He paused for a second.
Then he laughed out loud.
“You sold everything I gave you?”
“Yes.”
“That’s rich.” His shoulders shook with laughter. “Fine. Take your little nest egg and give it a try. When you find out how cold the world is out there, you’ll come crawling back.”
“Whether the world is cold or not is my business.”
I stood up.
“Tomorrow at ten, the adviser will register my withdrawal from protection. The civil paperwork will be filed at the same time. You need to be there to confirm it.”
His laughter faltered for a beat before returning.
“Fine. Tomorrow at ten. If you actually walk out of this house, I’ll be there to see the show.”
His phone lit up.
A message flashed across the screen, the contact name followed by a red heart emoji.
The moment he saw it, the coldness on his face softened.
Matteo put the phone away, grabbed his car keys, and headed for the door.
As he passed the entryway, he finally noticed the empty wall.
“Where are the photos?”
I leaned against the dining room doorway and looked at him.
“I took them down six months ago. You’re only noticing today?”
His face stiffened.
Just for a second.
“If you enjoy tearing things down, don’t let me stop you.” He pulled the door open. “If you can really disappear from Vitale territory tomorrow, then my name isn’t Matteo Vitale.”
The door slammed shut.
I turned to the signed agreement on the table.
Six months.
I had waited for that signature every single day.
I picked up the pen from the floor, slid the papers into a sealed envelope, and tucked it into an outer pocket of my suitcase.