The Mafia's Backup Bride - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Blake kept calling in the days that followed. Every time his name flashed on my screen, I let it ring out.
Then the letters started—flooding in through every possible channel. Sometimes neighborhood kids, innocent and curious, would read his words aloud to me.
He wrote about loving me long before he'd realized it. About how sleepless nights had become his norm since we'd parted. How I'd become as vital to him as his own skeleton.
I listened to his desperate ramblings. At first, I had the kids write back—short, sharp replies telling him to stop. That we were through. Eventually, I just left.
The plane ride was turbulent, matching my mood. I relocated to territory controlled by Blake's rival, thinking distance would bring peace.
It didn't.
A year later, I stood at Blake's funeral.
"Gone so young," mourned a guest.
"After last year... when he went on that rampage against half the city," whispered another.
"They say it was over Megan."
The crowd lamented his devotion to Megan. Only I knew the truth—he'd died just blocks from my villa.
"Caroline... Ms. Ward."
I turned to see Zachary, eyes rimmed red, holding a small box. Inside, he explained, was everything.
"That night... Blake was coming to see you. When he realized he was being followed, he—"
"I'm sorry," I cut in, biting my lip.
Zachary's voice cracked. "He wanted you to know... all his assets are yours. His last words were a plea—'Tell Caroline not to hate me.'"
I walked out without responding.
But hate him? Of course I did. He'd buried my youth with his mistakes.
I donated every cent of Blake's fortune to charity.
Then I enrolled in a PhD program.
Clean slate. Fresh start.