Bella’s POV: “No, it’s Mr. Leone’s lawyer. He’s here to see you.” A lawyer? Why would a lawyer come at this time? I found it odd and pondered for a moment before slowly getting dressed. When I arrived in the living room. Mr. Zion was seated on the sofa, with two documents and a fountain pen placed on the coffee table in front of him. I walked over and sat down on the adjacent sofa, “Mr. Zion, you’re here?” “Mrs. Leone, this is what the godfather has instructed me to give you.” Mr. Zion didn’t bother with pleasantries, picking up the documents from the coffee table and handing them to me. People close to the godfather always treated me this way, cold and direct. They all knew that godfather Salvatore had no regard for me. We had been married for years, and he didn’t even deign to appear before me. I had gotten used to this; I never told anyone outside that I was the godfather’s wife, nor did I care to use that title for anything special. I took them, and my intuition told me these were no ordinary papers! The Mafia godfather’s personal lawyer presenting these documents surely meant something significant was afoot. Could it be that my one-night stand had been discovered? I subconsciously pursed my lips, comforting myself not to think too much for now. When I opened the folder, my eyes fell on the first line in large print. “Divorce agreement? He wants to divorce me?” I was surprised and puzzled, and scared. Did he know about my affair? Did he find out so quickly? Was my husband spying on me all along? Thinking this, my face turned pale, and I dared not speak any further, waiting for what the lawyer would say next. “Yes,” Mr. Zion nodded, “After your marital relationship with the godfather is terminated, the 7 million cash that the Rizzo family sought from the godfather as compensation for you will not need to be returned.” “Is he serious?” I still couldn’t believe it, while also wondering if this meant he still didn’t know about my affair? Three years ago, when the Rizzo family was on the brink of bankruptcy, my stepmother Vivian and my heartless biological father conspired to send me to the godfather in exchange for 7 million from the Leone family. I thought this sham of a marriage would take five to eight years to dissolve, yet here it was ending after just three? At this thought, I felt a thrill of excitement; divorced, I would be free! “Yes,” Mr. Zion nodded again. “The godfather has already signed.” “Why does he want to divorce me?” “The godfather didn’t say.” “Alright then!” I was very anxious inside, fearing Mr. Zion would mention my one-night affair, my infidelity. Fortunately, Mr. Zion didn’t say anything more, and I quickly flipped to the last page, signing my name next to Salvatore’s. Though I knew nothing about why the godfather wanted a divorce as soon as he returned, I didn’t want to delve deeper. After all, it was he who wanted out! This was just perfect; it gave me my freedom, and since I was the one being divorced, my family couldn’t blame me for not maintaining the marriage. After Mr. Zion left, I watched his departing figure and breathed a sigh of relief. Good, good, the affair hadn’t been discovered. I quickly ran upstairs, ready to pack and leave because just because the godfather didn’t know now didn’t mean he wouldn’t find out later. If he ever learned about my one-night stand during our marriage… I suddenly felt a chill. “Mrs. Leone, Madam Carmela is here.” A servant hurried in, his face etched with concern. What, my mother-in-law has come? I was frightened of any visitor now. Could my mother-in-law know about my one-night stand? No, no, don’t scare yourself. I turned coldly and looked toward the door, seeing the well-preserved Madam Carmela, still elegant in her fifties, walking in. Honestly, I didn’t like this mother-in-law, and of course, she didn’t like me either. “You don’t welcome me?” Madam Carmela always found inexplicable reasons to criticize me, “Or is it because you look so upset?” “The godfather wants me divorced, am I not allowed to be upset? From today, I can no longer live in such a luxurious estate.” I always knew Madam Carmela looked down on me. She thought I was no lady of distinction, and she never allowed me to call her “mother.” From the day I married the godfather, she strictly required me to address her as “Madam Carmela.” I didn’t care much; it was just a title. After speaking, I started upstairs. I didn’t want to talk more with her; in other words, we had nothing to say to each other. “Stop!” Madam Carmela called out sharply behind me. “I came here today to ask you, did you cheat?” Madam Carmela’s tone was very sure; she wasn’t asking out of suspicion.