Buried on His Wedding Day
My marriage to Lucian Hawke was hailed as the most perfect union in the mafia world.
As the daughter of the Sinclair family and him being the sole heir of the Hawke family, our marriage united the two most powerful mafia families in the Northeastern. I thought we were unbreakable.
Then, I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. As if life couldnāt get any worse, my husband's first love returnedāon the very same day. That night, the man Iād been married to for years didnāt come home.
The next morning, his voice was cold, distant. Indifferent.
āIāve got the divorce papers ready. When can you come sign them?ā
I hesitated, struggling to steady my voice. āIām still at the hospital.ā
He didnāt even pause. āI donāt care if you're on your deathbed, Elara. Come home and sign the goddamn papers.ā
My heart shattered, but I refused to let it show. āAs you wish, Lucian.ā
What he didnāt know was that I was dyingāliterally.
A week later, at my funeral, Lucian wearing a tuxedo, weeping at my grave, whispering regrets he should have voiced when I was still breathing.
Ironically, my funeral day, was also his wedding day with his sweetheart.
But it was too late, my love.
This time, youāll never see me again.