You Were My Goodbye

I ran into my ex-boyfriend at a friend's birthday party. He was now the Godfather of the Barzan family. He looked handsome and polished, and he'd arrived with his gorgeous fiancée on his arm. She smiled at me and said, "If you hadn't broken up with him back then, you'd be the lady of the Barzan house—the Godfather's wife." Across the table, his arm around her, Nico wore a cold expression. "Why bring up the past? We ended things ages ago. You're my fiancée, the future matriarch of the family." Under the crowd's watchful stares, I quietly covered the scar on my wrist and forced a tight smile. "Right… it's been such a long time." Chapter 1 "Didn't Valentina dump him first?" That was the whispered question going around the table while Nico's fiancée was in the bathroom. My name is Valentina. I hadn't planned to be here. A friend swore Nico wouldn't show up, so I came. But there he was. Nico Barzan—the youngest don on the East Coast. He ran every dock and casino in Boston. In his tailored suit, he was almost too handsome to look at. Even the family ring on his finger was worth a fortune. Everyone wanted his favor. Me? I was nobody. "She did break up with him," Nico said flatly, answering the question no one dared ask aloud. Let them fill in the blanks. I was proud. Blind. Stupid. "Valentina, I heard your family went under, right?" "Oh my God, did you come here to ask for money?" "Or find some rich guy to pay off your debts? Ha." Nico just watched me from across the table, his dark eyes unreadable. He didn't say a word in my defense. So I smiled—an ugly, tight thing—and stayed quiet. Then the bathroom door opened. His fiancée came back, felt the tension right away, and smiled anyway. Two perfect dimples. "What did I miss?" Nico took her hand. "Nothing. Old news." She sat down, her eyes landing on me. "Nico told me about you. You know, if you hadn't broken up with him back then, you'd be the Barzan lady today." A few guests smirked. I used to be somebody. My family had power, and I was always the center of attention. People don't forget that kind of envy—they just wait for you to fall. Nico cut in, his voice cold and final. "That's in the past." No one argued. When the don closes a subject, you close it. His fiancée raised her glass to me. "Thank you for letting him go. Otherwise I never would have met him. You have to come to the wedding." I pulled my sleeve over the scar on my wrist and said, "Congratulations." Chapter 2 "Why didn't you explain anything to him?" My best friend Chiara was furious. I could hear it through the phone. The dinner party had ended early. I stood outside in my coat, watching my breath turn to fog in the cold air. "He has a fiancée now," I said. Chiara went quiet. "A fiancée?" "Yeah." People trickled out in pairs and groups. Streetlights reflected off the snow like cracked glass. "That's such a shame. After everything you did to see him again—" "Chiara." I cut her off. "No one waits forever." Some things are better left unsaid. They only get uglier. The wind made my eyes water. I blinked and tried to rub the dryness away. "I'm giving up." I had spent years crawling out of the mud, hoping to meet him again with my head held high. But it was too late. "Okay," Chiara said softly. "Come home first." It was below freezing. No taxis anywhere. My hands went numb within minutes. Then I heard heels clicking on the pavement behind me, followed by a sweet voice: "Nico, the snow is beautiful." "It's cold. Get in the car. I'll be there in a minute." That voice—I would know it anywhere. "Hurry up, then." She walked past me and gave me a long, meaningful look. Then she got into a nearby car, opened the door just enough to flash the ring on her right hand. It caught the light and blazed. The Barzan heirloom. It used to be on my finger. I gave it back to Nico when we broke up. So she wasn't just his fiancée. She was the future lady of the Barzan family. Everyone else had left. Only he and I remained. My ride still hadn't come. Nico stood behind me in silence. Neither of us spoke. Under the streetlight, our shadows overlapped. I found myself drifting back to the night we broke up. Nico had been ambushed on his way to see me. He took a bullet. His friend called me, voice harsh. "Nico's in the hospital. Get here." "Is he going to die?" A bitter laugh. "So if he's not dying, you're not coming?" "That's not it. I just can't come. Take care of him." "Valentina, he's already made his place in the family. Give him more time and he'll be the don. Why can't you just wait? Are you really that desperate for money? He did things for you that you can never repay. Did you forget all of it?" His friend was practically screaming. Then the phone was snatched away and slammed down. Yes. I was the one who left him. Of course he hated me. "How much do you owe?" Nico's voice pulled me back to the present. Cold. "None of your business." I breathed in the freezing air. My throat, already raw from the drinks earlier, tightened, and I started coughing. The cold was biting. I doubled over, holding onto a lamppost. The alcohol churned in my stomach, and tears ran down my face. Nico stood next to me, watching coldly. A taxi pulled up. "Brooklyn?" I asked. The driver leaned over. "Yeah." I pushed myself up, caught my breath, and reached for the door handle. Then someone grabbed my arm and yanked me back. I fell into Nico's chest. "What are you doing in Brooklyn?" he demanded. Brooklyn was full of politicians and cops. Mafia families didn't go there. I tried to push him away. He caught my wrist instead. His body heat seeped through his clothes into mine. I struggled again but couldn't break free. I looked up at his shadowed face. "What does the Barzan don want to say?" He pressed his lips together, his dark eyes calm and unreadable. The wind howled, whipping my hair around. I smiled bitterly and said what he was thinking. "You're like everyone else. You think I came to the party looking for a sugar daddy, right?" "Fifty thousand a month. Enough?" He cut me off, his face cold. "What do you mean?" Finally, a glint of mockery appeared in Nico's eyes. "Aren't you broke? Fifty or a hundred grand—just name your price if that's not enough." I raised my hand and slapped him. The smack echoed through the night. A clear red handprint bloomed on his cheek. In the distance, a woman shrieked. She threw open the car door and ran toward us. "Nico, I don't need your money. I just need you to stay away from me." I got into the taxi and left. Chapter 3 "You hit him?" Chiara handed me a glass of warm water. "Yeah. He tried to put me on a monthly allowance." I curled up on the couch, fighting waves of stomach pain, and drank slowly. A few minutes later, I ran to the bathroom and threw up. Chiara patted my back. "Bad stomach and you still drink." I caught my breath, wiped my mouth. My throat was on fire. "Was it worth it?" she asked. "Loving him all these years?" I looked up at my reflection in the mirror—wet lashes, dark hair plastered to my forehead, pale face. Chiara's voice came from far away, muffled. "If you hadn't been so ruthless back then, he wouldn't be where he is today…" I thought of Nico's fiancée again. She had a brightness I'd lost. I used to be like that. A long time ago. Then I fell too hard. By the time I crawled out of the pit, everything had changed. When Chiara finished her work in Brooklyn, we walked hand in hand back to our rental. My phone rang. It was Nico's friend. "Valentina, if you're in trouble, I can find you a job in the family." I stayed quiet, waiting. "They're getting married next month. Mira's a good person. Her family is solid. You—" "I won't bother him again. Don't worry." He paused, then offered weakly, "We just want Nico to be happy." "Okay." All our old friends had taken Nico's side. Every single one. Chiara's eyes were red. "They don't understand anything." "It's fine." I had to stay in town a while longer, so I found a job not far from home. At the interview, the manager asked, "Do you have depression?" "In the past. It's under control now. I have a doctor's note." Other jobs had turned me down because of it. But that night, I got the offer. I thought the birthday party would be the last time I ever saw Nico. Three days later, he stormed in with his men. I was sitting in a corner, reconciling accounts. He stopped when he saw me. "What are you doing here?" "Working." He stared for a second, then said to his deputy, "We need a bookkeeper at the casino. Put her there." "No." "Fine." Nico didn't even look up. "Either you take the job, or you get out of my territory." I laughed bitterly. "So if I say no, you'll kick me out?" He finally raised his head. "I'm giving you a choice. You don't really think I want something from you, do you?" I thought of Chiara arguing over pennies for rent the night before. I forced a smile. "The Barzan don is a gentleman. And he's about to get married. I have nothing to fear." Nico nodded slightly. "Thank you. When you start, stay outside my private suite. I don't want to see your face." The weeks passed. We barely crossed paths. A week later, some high rollers came to the casino. I was new, so I got pulled into drinking with them. "Valentina, you can't say no." "Don't worry, someone will get you home." My boss smiled and pushed a glass toward me. With everyone egging me on, I downed the last drink of the night and passed out at the table. The next morning, I woke up in a huge bed. Bright sunlight flooded the room. I sat up. The blanket slipped, revealing a soft bathrobe. I froze, then got up and walked out. In the living room, Nico sat with his legs crossed, cleaning a gun. He was also in a hotel robe. He glanced up when he saw me. "You're awake. Breakfast is on the table. Eat, then sleep more." A chill ran down my spine. My face went white. "Did we…?" He put the gun on the coffee table. He pulled his collar open slightly, showing a hickey. "Not my doing. You were the one who came onto me last night. You said, 'I still love you.'" I was stunned. I had no memory of any of it. "That's impossible." Nico slid a contract across the table. My fingerprint was on it. It said I would be his mistress, and he'd pay me ten thousand a month. "I never signed that…" "Really?" He chuckled. "Are you sure?" I opened my mouth, but no words came out. He ignored my panic and pulled out a voice recorder. "I happened to record your little monologue last night. Want to hear how twisted you really are?" I shook, frozen. Humiliation crashed over me. That kind of secret feeling—hidden because it's shameful—now exposed and used as evidence, like a crime. "Either you stay and work at my casino, on call whenever I want. Or I make sure you can't survive in Boston. And that recording? It'll spread through the family." "You're getting revenge." "Yes." He said it lightly. "You made sure I suffered. Why should you have it easy?" "Two choices. Stay or leave. But if you walk out, no one on the entire East Coast will hire you." The clock ticked in the silence, each second pressing on my ears. My lips were dry and cracked. I looked up numbly. "I'm leaving." Under his icy gaze, I whispered, "Nico, I won't be anyone's mistress." He studied me, then smiled. "Valentina, who do you think you are? Do you really have a choice?" Chapter 4 In the bathroom, I found my clothes in a heap on the floor. His were neatly hung on the rack by the door. Separate. Orderly. The sight stung. I sighed, changed quietly, and left the hotel. Chiara called, her voice strained. "Valentina, they want half a million." The sky was gray. No sun. She'd spent most of her savings on my treatment. I had almost nothing left. "They said if we don't pay, they'll expose everything and never tell you where your mother's ashes and belongings are." "I'll try to borrow. We should have it by next month." "Okay." After hesitating, I dialed a number. It took a while to connect. "Valentina? What's up?" "Dr. Marco, I'm sorry to bother you. I…" He sounded busy. After some shuffling, he reached a quiet place. "Trouble?" I took a deep breath. "Can you lend me four hundred thousand?" It was the first time I'd ever asked anyone for money. My whole body burned. A commotion on his end: "Dr. Marco, emergency surgery." "Got it." I didn't expect much. I was ready for him to hang up. But at the last moment, Marco said shortly, "Send me your account number. I'll transfer it today." Then the line went dead. The sky stayed gray. But the cold dial tone suddenly felt warm. That evening, the deputy knocked on my desk. "VIPs tonight. You're coming." A few hours earlier, I'd asked him for an advance on my first month's salary. With that, the borrowed money, and my savings, I barely scraped together the half million. When I walked into the private room, I saw Nico. He was working the room with ease, exchanging pleasantries. The chandelier light traced his sharp profile. The deputy gave me a small push. All eyes landed on me. "Mr. Barzan, is she one of yours?" Nico glanced at me casually. "Yes. New." "A new girl you personally bring around? Not bad-looking." Chatter, then everyone sat. The deputy placed me next to Nico. He whispered, "Be smart tonight. Take the drinks when you need to." "Mr. Barzan, can your new girl drink or not?" Before Nico could answer, the deputy jumped in, "She can, she can." He pushed a glass toward me. "Start with a toast." Nico said nothing. Just smiled and tapped the table. I held my breath and downed it. The liquor burned through my throat, my stomach churning. Cheers erupted. They were about to pour another when Nico changed the subject. "What were we talking about? Let's continue." Throughout the night, people tried to toast Nico, but he claimed a bad stomach and didn't touch a drop. The deputy funneled every drink to me. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. I went to the bathroom. I turned on the tap and retched. My hair came loose and fell into the sink, getting wet. After texting Chiara, I slumped over the counter, eyes closed, panting. Footsteps approached from outside. The door opened. I assumed it was some woman. But it was Nico. Calm. "Can't handle it already?" I pushed myself up, wobbled, tried to walk past him. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. His large hand went to the back of my neck. Hot. "Let me go." My throat was raw from stomach acid. Every word hurt. Nico easily dragged me to the mirror, turned me to face it, and lifted my chin. He smirked. "Take a good look. You think it's safe to walk out looking like this?" My reflection stared back—wet eyes, flushed cheeks, tangled hair, collar open. He stared through the mirror, openly, greedily. I closed my eyes, trembling. "Who's more dangerous than you?" He laughed softly and kissed my ear. "Come home with me tonight, okay?" "Get lost—" He silenced me with his mouth, crushing the air from my lungs. Under the influence of alcohol, my blood felt like molten lava. Lights blurred. Water dripped like acid on my heart. Agony. I broke out in a cold sweat, weakly hitting him. Dragged back to that dark time. Desperately watching a bright, colorful world where I didn't belong. "Nico… can you just let me go?" I was falling. Silent. Hitting the bottom of the well. It hurt. But I couldn't feel it anymore. "Valentina!" He was shouting my name. Not with the look that said he wanted me dead. He looked scared. For a moment, I couldn't tell if he was the young Nico or the man he'd become. I said, "Nico, I never want to see you again." Chapter 5 The fever hit hard. I was delirious, every bone aching, shivering under the blanket. The wind howled outside. In my haze, I dreamed of the past. I was on Nico's back. "Nico, what if I die?" He walked steadily, his voice soft. "Don't say that. It's just a fever. You'll be fine after a shot." "Hey, do you have enough money? Shots are expensive." "It's fine." "How can it be fine? How much do you have left?" He didn't answer. He carried me into the hospital, crouched in front of me, and said seriously, "As long as you're okay, I'm okay." I was bundled up in a thick coat. "When Mom and Dad stop fighting, I'll ask them for money to pay you back." Nico touched my hair, his eyes gentle. "Trust me. You're going to be fine." But I wasn't fine. The night Nico was sent to the East Coast on family business, I came home and opened my parents' bedroom door. My father had another woman in his arms. That was the beginning of my fall. Then came the screaming fights. Then my father was shot dead by my mother. My home vanished. Late one night, my family's enemies broke in. The chandelier swinging. Men's excited shouts. Dull pain on my skin. The sickening feel of hands. My mother's hysterical screaming—all mixed into a boiling, churning mess in my head. Then time fast-forwarded. My mother drowned in the bathtub—by their hands. Chiara found me, half-clothed, and took me far away to the West Coast. On a rainy day, I sat curled in a hospital corner in a patient gown, my face blank. "She has a genetic psychiatric condition. Any family?" Chiara looked at me with worried eyes. "She has a boyfriend. On the East Coast." "Contact him." The doctor used clinical terms. "She's at high risk for suicide. Treatment will be long and difficult. She'll need someone with her for years." I was in no state to plan revenge. Chiara and I were like two stray dogs. We fled everything we'd ever known. The same day, Nico got the chance to expand into Europe. He called. There was wind on his end. "Valentina," he said, tenderly. "I promise you. In three years, I will marry you." I watched the iron gate close behind me. There was no way back home. "Nico… I don't think I can be with you anymore." I swallowed the sob. Tears fell silently. He stopped breathing. "Why?" I opened my mouth. For a moment, I hesitated. His future was so bright. And I—parents dead, violated by multiple men. Would I really chain him to me? Trap him on this gray, rainy coast? Through a window, a girl cried behind a fence. The boy's face showed nothing but numbness and disgust. I saw the light die in someone's eyes. It was devastating. The wind lifted my hair, revealing bruises and bite marks on my neck. Finally, I wiped my tears and said, "Nico, take care of yourself. We're done." Chapter 6 Beeping. Monitors. Sunset slipped through the blinds, pooling on the sofa like scattered gold. I blinked. The nightmare faded. I sat up. A man sat on the couch, head down, peeling an apple. Long, pale fingers worked neatly. Soon a perfect fruit appeared. Clean. Round. Nico. He heard me move. Looked up. Without a word, he pressed the call button. A doctor came, checked my pupils, confirmed I was stable, and said to Nico, "She's malnourished. More protein in her diet." Nico nodded. "Thank you." The door closed. He came to the bed and held out the apple. "Don't think about anything. Just get better." I didn't take it. I got up and searched the closet. My phone was gone. No outside clothes. He let me rummage. "Nico, what do you want?" I stood barefoot on the floor. Sunlight fell on the window glass, showing my pale, haggard reflection. "You know what I want." He put the apple on the nightstand and wiped his hands slowly. "I want you." He sat right there in the light, his dark eyes fixed on me—hot, humiliating. I trembled, clenched my fists. "Nico, you can't treat me like this." He stood and came over in two steps, towering over me. He smoothed my hair. "Why not?" "I'm in love with someone else. Please stop." "Oh, really?" His face was expressionless. He cupped my face and leaned down, stopping a centimeter from my lips. I couldn't break free. When I turned my head, I closed my eyes and shivered involuntarily. Nico laughed. His cold voice slipped into my ear. "Valentina. You're lying." Chapter 7 The private hospital was in the suburbs, surrounded by endless woods. I couldn't leave. I couldn't reach anyone. The doctors and nurses said they were sorry, but their hands were tied. Nico came every day. Mostly at dusk, rushing in straight from work, and we'd talk. I kept my distance. He didn't push. Lately, I'd been dreaming of the past a lot. Back when I used to say his name all the time. "Nico, you're going to be the greatest don ever." He sighed. "What flavor milk today?" "Banana." He skipped class for the first time just to buy me banana milk. Got caught. Later, in college, rumors spread about him and the campus beauty. I took the subway for over a dozen stops and sat crying under his building. Nico got out of bed, came downstairs in the dark, and gently wiped my tears. "Stop crying. If you want me, I'm yours." "Only you from now on." "That's not how you confess." He hugged me tight. "I love you." We never imagined that a decade later, it would come to this. "Tomorrow, I'm getting married." The sunset still lingered, warmth fading. Nico's voice pulled me back. "Is there anything you want to say to me?" I held my half-drunk milk and looked at his face. Suddenly I understood why I'd been dreaming so much. I was saying goodbye to the old Valentina and the old Nico. On TV, his and Mira's wedding was all over the news. Golden couple. Perfect match. That was the future we once dreamed of. But now? I was sick, broken. Who was I to deserve it? "Congratulations," I said. "I hope you have many children." Nico's knife slipped. It cut his finger. Blood welled up. He blinked, grabbed a tissue, pressed it to the cut, and smiled bitterly. "It's fine. She and I are just going through the motions. Do you want kids? Boys, girls? How many? I'm good with anything." "Nico, can't we just let it go?" I felt so tired. "Let's keep some dignity." He stopped pretending. Threw the apple back into the basket. Stared at me with a mocking smile. "Let it go?" "Why?" "You started this. Then you got bored and walked away clean. What does that make me? A dog?" I closed my eyes against the sunlight. "Then I'll pay you back." He went rigid. "What?" I watched the dying sun. "You want me to suffer? I can die." He grabbed my chin, forced my face toward him, eyes blazing. "Valentina, are you sick?" "If you wanted to die so badly, why didn't you do it back then?" Chapter 8 I don't remember when he left. That night, his friend Matteo—once mine, too—burst through the door. "Valentina. What did you promise me?" I was too stunned to answer. "Do you know how much Nico is losing by canceling the wedding?" "You're an adult. Stop acting like you did back then—reckless, always leaving Nico to clean up after you. Think about him for once." "What happened?" "What happened?" Matteo laughed bitterly. "Nico is calling off the wedding because of you. That's what happened." My ears rang. I sat there, blank. If he canceled the wedding now, what would that make me? A homewrecker? Matteo dragged me out of bed. "Come on. You were good at this before. Bored, found someone new—pick any excuse. Say it." "Matteo—" "Valentina!" He was shaking with rage. "If you hadn't come back, none of this would be happening." His voice echoed in the wind. I couldn't hear anything else. The hatred in his eyes was absolute. As if someone like me deserved to die. "Matteo, he's the one who won't let me go." His face hardened. "After this is done, I'll send you away." Late that night, the family's hearing room was bright with lights. Matteo dragged me inside. But the internal hearing had already begun. Nico sat at the head of the long table, composed. "We heard the reason for canceling the wedding was a third party," a committee member challenged. Nico was smooth. "Miss Mira and I had differences. We parted amicably." Matteo's face was dark. He held my wrist like a vice. "But sources say you've rekindled things with your first love." Nico remained calm. "Rumors. If there's nothing else, this meeting is adjourned—" He stood. Then someone shouted, "She's here!" "That's her!" All eyes turned to me. I stood exposed, disheveled, horrified. Family members swarmed around. Within seconds, I was trapped. Questions flew: "What is your relationship with Nico?" "Did you really break up someone's engagement?" The noise was overwhelming. Nico's smile vanished. He pushed through the crowd toward me. "No." "I didn't." I tried to defend myself, but my voice was swallowed. "Fresh evidence!" A captain held up his phone. My voice came out: "Nico, I love you." Nico's face went pale. "Isn't that a mistress?" "Shameless." The whispers hit like slaps. All color drained from my face. "I'm sorry. No. I didn't. I don't know—" "Matteo! Get her out!" Nico shoved through the crowd, panicked. Everything turned white. The captain kept reading: "Oh, and I hear your father was shot, your mother killed herself, and you have a serious genetic mental illness—five years in a West Coast mental hospital… Oh my God." The room erupted. "Why is a mentally ill person out here causing trouble?" "She's sick." "Why not just die?" Nico froze. He raised his eyes to mine. Shock. Disbelief. I sat helpless in the noise, the blood in my body cooling until I was completely cold. "Valentina…" He said my name. His voice shook. I knew what came next. I just waited for the blade to fall and destroy whatever was left of my life. "She was also sexually assaulted." Those were the captain's last words. When Nico heard them, his face went white as paper.