My Mafia Husband Chose My Sister, So I Chose My Lost Love

By the tenth year of my marriage to the Moretti Don, I was finally tired of it all.

I stopped checking which villa he had gone to at night, or which woman he had slept with.

And I no longer cared whether Lucien Moretti loved me.

Even when the family doctor sent over birth control pills, I swallowed them without so much as a frown.

Lucien returned to the Moretti estate after dark.

He stood beside the bed and said my name in a low voice.

“Clara, I haven’t been back the past few days because Vivian got hurt.”

“She chased a crew that had hijacked one of our shipments into an alley and got slashed.”

“You know what she’s like. If I hadn’t gone, she would’ve kept pushing herself.”

I lifted the covers and shifted farther into the bed.

“It’s fine. Go to sleep. You still have to meet with the committee tomorrow.”

Lucien seemed to pause.

“You’re really not upset?”

I nodded.

Who didn’t have someone they never quite got over?

Funny thing was, mine had just come back too.