
After the Scars, I Married the Don’s Enemy
Hannah Air · Completed · 6.9k Words
Introduction
The day I was disfigured saving him, Richard held my hand and swore I was his only weakness.
He said even if the fire had turned me into a monster, I would still be his.
But I knew the truth. I wasn’t his weakness but the curse he could never escape.
Ten years ago, on the night of the fire, I stepped into an ocean of flames for him. In return, I got burns across sixty-three percent of my body and ten years locked inside his guilt.
Stella, the mafia heiress who loved Richard so desperately it bordered on madness, once stood beside my hospital bed, crying as she begged me to let him go.
“You’re his only weakness,” she said, her voice shaking. “The Miller Family already has their eyes on him… Please. Just set him free.”
So I put on a veil and married the man Richard hated most, Frank of the Miller Family.
At the wedding, Richard’s eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed my arm.
“Tell me the truth,” he demanded hoarsely. “Are you doing this willingly?”
Through the cheap veil covering my ruined face, I smiled at him. “Yes. I’m tired. I don’t want to be your burden anymore.”
But on our wedding night, Frank tore the veil from my head. He stared at my twisted, scarred face and sneered. “Jesus… you’re fucking ugly.”
When Frank pinned me down, my fingers brushed against the gun Richard had secretly slipped into my wedding dress.
Along with it was a bloodstained note. His handwriting was frantic, almost insane.
Just one word—Live.
And right now, my adoptive father was waiting at the North Dock with men from the Miller Family, ready to silence me for good.
Because the fire ten years ago, the one that burned my adoptive mother to death, was started by him.
Now everyone wants me dead.
But Richard…This time, for you, I’m going to stay alive, even if I have to crawl all the way to the gates of hell.
Chapter 1
Once again, I was wheeled into the ER with tubes running through my arms.
I was born with an immune deficiency. For most people, a cold is nothing. For me, it’s enough to shut my whole body down.
To pay for my treatment, Richard had been fighting in underground cages, bare-knuckle, no rules. He didn’t even bother treating his wounds afterward.
When he arrived at the hospital, he was carrying a black briefcase the organizers had given him.
He dropped to his knees in front of the doctor. “Please,” he said hoarsely. “She’s my sister. If it’s not enough, I’ll bring the rest tomorrow.”
When I woke up, Richard wasn’t there. I knew he was busy.
But Stella was. She was the daughter of the Valenti Family, the most powerful mafia family in America.
She stood beside my bed, looking down at me.
“Matilda,” she said coolly, “ten years ago you saved Richard in that fire. But he’s protected you for ten years now. It’s time to settle the debt.”
I lowered my head. The hand resting outside the blanket was a mess of black-and-white scars, the skin warped and uneven.
She kept talking.
“For you, he’s neglected the Corleone Family’s business. The only quick money he can make now is fighting in cages.”
Her voice softened, almost pleading. “Please… just let him go.”
The moment she finished, I nodded without hesitation. “Okay.”
Her mouth fell open. The threats she had been ready to say seemed to get stuck in her throat before she finally swallowed them back.
Richard came back that night. His eyes were bloodshot.
The moment he saw me, he pulled me tightly into his arms. My whole body froze. “Don’t touch me.” I shoved him away with a scream, completely out of control.
Richard staggered back, nearly losing his balance.
When his wounded gaze landed on me, I finally realized what I had done.
I stiffly pulled my hand back.
I was Richard’s adopted sister. Before his father took me in, my previous stepfather had been a pedophile.
Once I understood that everything that man had done to me was rape, I could no longer tolerate the touch of any man.
“I’m sorry,” Richard said quickly, clearly at a loss. “I just...”
He cut himself off mid-sentence. I knew why. He didn’t want me to remember.
“Stella came to see you, didn’t she?” His voice trembled. “Don’t listen to her. I’ll never abandon you.”
I pulled the blanket over myself, hiding my face where he couldn’t see it.
Then I said recklessly, “I don’t need you here. Leave.”
“Wherever you are,” he replied quietly through the blanket, “that’s where I’ll stay.”
A year ago, I “woke up.”
I realized I was nothing more than cannon fodder in a mafia novel.
Richard was supposed to become the Boss of the most powerful mafia family in America.
But because of me, his adopted sister with no blood relation, he was expelled from the underground circles of the mafia world.
Then, trying to earn money for my treatment, he took a dangerous job at a gun-running dock. Enemies he’d once offended captured him.
By the time they were done, his body was riddled with bullet holes and scars.
And I died alone in a cheap basement apartment.
That wasn’t gratitude but ruin.
The next evening, Richard’s cousin Marcus came by.
The moment he walked in, Richard pulled him outside.
I quietly slipped out of bed and crept to the door, pushing it open just a crack.
Through the narrow gap, I saw that Stella had come too.
Stella’s voice was sharp. “Richard, how long are you going to keep trapping yourself because of her? You stopped owing her a long time ago.”
“Lower your voice,” Richard warned, his tone cold. “This has nothing to do with you.”
Marcus spoke up, his voice steady. “I agree with Stella. You stopped owing her a long time ago. You weren’t the one who raped her. You didn’t force her to save you.”
“No.” Richard refused immediately. “She has an immune deficiency. I can’t leave her.”
Stella’s voice shook. “Does your life not matter too?”
Then everything fell silent.
I didn’t know if it was the cold or something else, but my body felt so stiff I couldn’t move.
In the book, it said Richard rejected Marcus and Stella’s help because of his adopted sister. The family labeled him a traitor. He lost all access to the underground business for good.
Marcus sighed. “We’ll give you three days. If you change your mind, come find us.”
I quietly closed the door and returned to my bed.
Richard sat outside the room the entire night. And I lay awake the whole night too.
If he refused to leave, then I would be the one to cut the chain.
Whether I lived or died, it didn’t matter, as long as he could climb to the top.
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