I Put a Price on My Don Husband Chapter 18
Jack stepped forward and stood firmly in front of Claire, facing Vincent with calm resolve.
“Leave now. Don’t disturb her life again. She’s happy here, and she doesn’t want to be haunted by the past.”
Vincent burned with jealousy as he watched Jack shield her, yet he was completely powerless.
He had lost. Lost everything, completely.
Instead of leaving the township, Vincent rented a small cabin not far from Claire’s home. He stayed there for half a month straight.
He abandoned all his work back in New York and sent his aides away. The powerful Don of the Vitelli family set aside every ounce of his pride. He lingered near places she visited every day, chasing her in a hopeless, utterly humble pursuit.
He waited on the path outside her house before dawn each morning, clutching a bouquet of white daisies damp with dew. They were her favorite flowers, the same ones Lily used to pick for him when she was alive.
He no longer wore his sleek, expensive tailored suits. Plain casual shirts were all he had on. His hair was messy, his face covered in stubble, and dark heavy circles lined his eyes. He looked worn and broken beyond recognition.
The second Claire stepped outside, he would follow a short distance behind. He never dared draw near or disturb her, only staring at her nonstop with eyes full of regret and pleading.
When she walked along the stream, he stood on the bridge for hours on end, unmoving through wind and sunlight.
When she shopped for food at the market, he trailed behind quietly. He bought every fruit and ingredient she’d glanced at but decided against, then left the bags on her doorstep without a word.
When she joined Jack for painting in the countryside, he hid behind a tall tree and watched her silhouette all day long, his eyes red and swollen.
He tried to learn how to make her favorite desserts and home-cooked meals, hoping to soften her heart.
Once the feared Italian-American Crime Syndicate leader who never lifted a finger for housework, he fumbled clumsily over the simple stove in his cabin. Hot oil scalded his hands until they blistered, and flour dusted his face, but he never stopped trying.
He flipped through old photographs again and again, recalling her favorite flavors. He brewed her beloved soup and baked her blueberry muffins. He placed the food neatly in containers and left them at her door, never knocking or making a sound, only hoping she would take a bite.
He transferred all his real estate, savings and company shares to her name unconditionally. One legal letter after another arrived in town, all meant to prove his sincerity.
He also drove alone to the Memorial Cemetery. He knelt for hours in front of Lily’s headstone, knelt and prayed until his forehead split open and blood ran down. He wept uncontrollably, praying for his daughter’s forgiveness. He prayed Lily would soften Claire’s heart toward him.
“Claire, I know I made terrible, unforgivable mistakes.”
Every time he saw her, he spoke in a hoarse voice, begging humbly. “I’ve locked Natalie away for good. She’ll never hurt anyone again. Leo’s been sent to the farthest Foster Care Facility, and he’s gone for good. I’ll give you everything I have. I don’t need a single thing for myself. I just need you to come back.”
“I’ll spend my whole life making it up to you and Lily. I’ll give you every bit of my tenderness, and I’ll never let you suffer again. Life means nothing to me without you.”
He was like a desperate child without any dignity, repeating his pleas and apologies over and over.