HIS

Chapter 32

Domenico's POV

My life feels like a complete mess. I lost the one person I was meant to protect, love, and cherish—my wife, my soulmate. I've also lost friends and family because I let the mistakes of my past shape my future. The worst part? I didn't even realize she had left until two days later, when her lawyer reached out with divorce papers. I won't sign them. I can't. I refuse to let go of her. But I know I need to fix my broken life and find a way to win her back. I need her to understand why I was so afraid, and why I shut down when I should've fought for us.

"Domenico, where are you?!" a voice called out as my bedroom door burst open.

"Damn, this place stinks of alcohol. Get up, Domenico—it's already 3 p.m.!" Luca's voice rang out as he stormed into the room, yanking open the curtains and windows like a man possessed. "Life's happening out there while you're lying here like some wounded animal. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

Luca and the guys are the only ones who've stuck by me, keeping a close eye to make sure I don't completely fall apart.

"Just let me die... I don't want this life anymore," I whispered, my voice heavy with exhaustion as I pulled the covers over my head. My skull throbbed, the hangover making it feel like it might split open.

"It's time to stop feeling sorry for yourself and start fixing the mess you made," Luca snapped, his voice sharp and unforgiving. "Be a man, Domenico. This is the last day I'm checking in on you. I'm running the Mafia just to keep your father from killing you, and I'm done with this sulking and drinking every damn day. How do you expect to find Olivia if you won't sober up and focus?"

He glared at me, clearly fed up, but didn't stop. "How do you expect to get your family back?"

I know... and I hate myself for everything I've done. I love her more than anything, and I regret the way I treated her. She'll never forgive me. I muttered the words into my pillow, the weight of it all pressing down on me.

"How do you expect her to forgive you if you won't focus on finding her and explaining yourself?" Luca asked again, his eyes sharp with frustration as he shot me a pointed look.

"Has Max found any leads on her?" I asked, hope flickering in my voice as I looked up at Luca. But he just shook his head, and I felt my heart sink.

"Your wife is incredibly careful—she hasn't even touched that offshore account of hers," Luca said, handing me a towel as a signal to get up and shower. "I've got to give her credit; she knows how to disappear. We've monitored all calls and messages going to her lawyer, and there's been no contact from unknown or untraceable numbers. Max is running facial recognition scans through traffic and street cameras now—that's our last resort, since we haven't found any trace of her working anywhere."

Luca's been showing up every day to make sure I eat and that I'm still breathing. He's basically running the Mafia in my place while I try to get my head straight—though honestly, I'm not sure that'll ever happen. Every morning feels like my heart's been ripped out all over again. But I know I need to pull myself together and start looking for her. I owe her an explanation—for everything, for how things spiralled the way they did.

"Come on, get in the shower. I brought lunch and it's getting cold," Luca said. I didn't argue. I got up slowly, my mind heavy with everything I've ruined—my life, my family's lives. Since Olivia left, Mom and Dad haven't spoken to me, and Marco nearly lost it when he found out she was gone. I moved out of our house and left it untouched, just as she left it. I can't bring myself to disturb anything she once touched. The memories we made there replay constantly in my head. That's why I'm living in a penthouse in the city now—trying to escape the ghosts of what used to be.