The Mafia Don's Obession

Valentina's POV

I blinked as Damien flicked my hands away from him in disgust. I could hear Tessa and her mother burst out laughing, their laughter echoing through the room, piercing me like daggers. But still—still, my eyes were fixed on him.

"Y-you're lying," I muttered, the tears streaming down my face. But this time, I didn't cling to him. I just stood there, watching as he scoffed with slight amusement.

"Do you think I have time for this, Valentina? If you don't believe me, go ask your father. The moment I brought it up, he only demanded compensation for the broken marriage, like it was some transaction. And don't even get me started on your sister—she congratulated me for finally getting rid of you. Even your family doesn't love you; they treat you like dirt," Damien spat, his voice cruel, dripping with venom. "Yet I loved you all these years, and you still couldn't give me the one thing I desire."

Damien's voice was harsh as he looked at me with a cold stare that almost made me flinch. I knew he was saying all of this just to break me even further.

"No, you're lying, Damien," I whispered, my breath catching in my throat. I was never treated right in the first place and was even forced to marry Damien by my father, but he wouldn't do something like this. Father wouldn't easily abandon me.

Damien scoffed and was about to say something, but Caelina suddenly groaned, clutching her stomach.

"Are you okay? What's wrong, my love?" Damien asked, his attention instantly shifting to her as though I no longer existed. His eyes softened, and the gaze that used to be reserved for me was now directed at someone else.

"I-I'm okay. I just feel tired. I think I need to rest, Damien," Caelina murmured, her voice weak as she leaned into him for support.

"Oh, no. You have to be careful, my dear. Damien, take her to the hospital for a checkup. Nothing must happen to my grandchild," my mother-in-law said in concern. Then her gaze shifted to me, "Even if I know some people might be wishing harm upon him."

"Yes, Mother," Damien said before wrapping an arm around Caelina and leading her out of the room without sparing me so much as a glance.

I stood there, frozen, watching their backs as they disappeared from my sight. I was still trying to process everything at once. What was happening? Why was this happening to me—especially on the very day I found out I was dying?

"Look at her," Tessa scoffed, "Standing there like a pathetic, lost dog. She looks so ridiculous, staring at them as if they'll turn around and care."

"She's always been a fool," her mother sneered. "What else do you expect from someone so worthless? It's almost amusing, watching her cling to scraps like a beggar."

I closed my eyes, trembling as the tears threatened to spill—to overwhelm me—and I almost let them, but I quickly collected myself. Despite everything, a single thought crossed my mind: I needed to see Father. I needed him to speak to Damien, to fix this. I couldn't let this marriage fall apart—Damien was all I had left, and I refused to lose him.

Taking a shaky breath, I opened my eyes and took a couple of steps toward the door, but before I could leave, my mother-in-law grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin as she glared at me.

"Where do you think you're going? Don't tell me you're running after them," she hissed, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

I yanked my arm free from her grip with such force I didn't know I had that made her stumble back, a shocked expression spread across her face as Tessa rushed to steady her.

"You—you dare?" she sputtered, pointing an accusatory finger at me.

"Don't touch me," I said, my voice low as I glared at her. "I'll be back, and I'm not divorcing your son. So don't even think about trying anything stupid."

"How dare you speak to my mother like that!" Tessa shrieked, her face twisted with rage. She raised her hand, ready to slap me, but I caught her wrist mid-air and, without hesitation, I threw her onto the ground, her gasp of shock filling the room. I stood over her, my eyes cold as she looked up at me in disbelief.

"I will be back, I just need to talk to my father, and he will fix this," I said through gritted teeth before walking toward the door, and this time, none of them dared to stop me.

I exited the villa and saw the driver standing by the car. When he saw me, he moved to open the backseat door, but I shook my head and demanded the car keys.

"But Madam, I can drive you wherever you want. You don't look too well. Do you want me to take you to the hospital?" he asked in concern as he noticed my state, but I took the keys from his hand without offering an explanation and climbed into the car.

"Madam, wait!" I heard Agatha call as I drove out of the villa, heading toward my father's mansion. I fought to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, focusing all my energy on the road. It was hard to breathe, my vision blurred, but after what felt like an eternity, I finally arrived at the grand mansion.

As soon as I drove into the mansion, a dozen men in black suits aimed their guns at me. But the moment I stepped out of the car, they recognized me and lowered their weapons, allowing me to pass without a word.

My heart tightened as I opened the door to the mansion. The first sight that greeted me was my stepmother and half-sister, grinning over something, but I didn't have time to stop for them.

"Oh, if it isn't the forsaken princess," my stepmother teased with a smirk, but I walked past them, my focus solely on reaching my father. I pushed open the door to his study, knowing he would be there.

The moment I entered, I was met with his cold gaze. He looked up from the papers in his hands, frowning as he removed his glasses. His eyes narrowed into a glare.

Normally, his glare would frighten me and I would cower from it, but I didn't know where I found the courage today. I stood firm, stepping further into the study.

"Father," I began, my voice trembling, even despite everything. "I need you to talk to Damien. He's going to divorce me, and I… I can't let that happen, so please talk to him and stop him. I know you can, so please convince him not to divorce me."

My voice cracked with desperate need, but he only leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving mine as he dropped the papers on the desk. For a moment, I wondered if he had heard me at all. His expression remained unreadable—cold and expressionless—and when he finally spoke up, all hope in me vanished in an instant.

"You are such a disappointment, Valentina. You can't even do anything right—can't keep your child, can't keep your husband—and now you've come here for help? Why should I help you?"