Forgotten by the Mafia Lord

My husband is a mafia boss, but he doesn't remember me.

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The call came in the middle of the night.

"Samuel got into an accident."

My heart stopped. The phone nearly slipped from my trembling fingers.

The next thing I knew, I was running. My feet pounded against the cold hospital floor as I pushed through the chaos. People were crying, nurses and doctors rushing past, wheeling in injured patients from the massive accident that had filled the ER to its breaking point. The scent of antiseptic and blood made me nauseous, but I swallowed the feeling down.

"Samuel! Where is Samuel?!" My voice cracked as I grabbed the nearest nurse. She barely spared me a glance, too occupied with a patient whose leg was twisted at a sickening angle. No one had time to answer me.

Then I saw him.

Hans, Samuel’s right hand, was slumped against the wall, his shirt dark with blood. His face was pale, his hands clutching his stomach. My stomach lurched.

"Hans! What happened?! Where is Samuel?!"

He exhaled sharply, his eyes barely focused on me. "Inside... OR... Critical..." His voice was weak, but the words still cut through me like a knife.

Samuel was fighting for his life.

"Hans, you need to get treated—"

"No," he gritted his teeth. "I can't leave my boss alone. I have to make sure—”

"Hans, please," I pleaded. He looked like he could collapse at any second.

Before he could argue further, nurses swarmed around him, forcing him onto a stretcher. I turned back toward the operating room, my entire body shaking as I stared at the closed doors.

I could lose him.

I gripped the chair beside me, trying to stay upright, trying not to break down. Hours passed, each minute stretching unbearably long. The cold air-conditioning bit on my skin, but I barely felt it.

Then the doors opened.

I stood so fast that my vision blurred. A doctor stepped out, exhaustion etched across his face. "The surgery was a success. He’s stable."

I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath until it came out as a choked sob. Relief and fear tangled inside me as I rushed inside, my heart slamming against my ribs.

The room was dimly lit, the steady beep of machines filling the silence. Samuel lay on the hospital bed, his face eerily pale, his strong frame looking fragile beneath the white sheets. My legs felt weak, but I forced myself to move closer. I took his hand in mine, gripping it tightly. My strong, ruthless mafia boss—looking so fragile.

My hand brushing his hair back. “I’m here, Samuel,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Please wake up.”

I don’t know how long I sat there. My head drooped, exhaustion weighing me down. When I finally stirred, I felt movement beside me.

I lifted my head. Samuel’s eyes were open.

"Samuel?" My breath hitched as his fingers twitched in my grasp. His eyelids fluttered before they finally opened, revealing those deep brown eyes I loved.

Tears spilled down my cheeks as I smiled. "You’re awake! Oh my God, I—"

But before I could finish, he pushed me away.

I stumbled back, shocked. His eyes held none of the warmth I knew. Just confusion.

"Who are you?"

The words sliced through me like a blade. My lips parted, but no sound came out.

"Samuel... it’s me. It’s Cianne. Your wife."

His brows furrowed. "I don’t know you."

I let out a small, desperate laugh. "Stop joking, Samuel. It’s me. I’ve been by your side for years. I—"

"Why do you keep calling yourself my wife? Where is Sierra?"

His voice was sharp, frustrated, and for the first time, truly terrifying.

Sierra.

That name. The ghost of a past I thought he had left behind. The woman who had walked away, who had hurt him.

"Why... Why are you asking about her?" My voice trembled.

"Because she’s my girlfriend. I don’t know who you are, but Sierra is the one I love."

A sharp gasp left my throat. It felt like my entire world was crumbling. I reached out, hoping, praying that this was some cruel joke, that he would take my hand and laugh and tell me he remembered.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Hans stepped forward, his face grim. The door had barely closed behind the doctor when the words hung in the air, suffocating me. The doctor had stood there moments ago, his expression unreadable as he explained it in clipped, professional tones. Head trauma, memory loss, uncertainty.

Samuel might never remember the last three years.

Hans swallowed hard, shifting on his feet. "Boss... The doctor said you might have amnesia. You don’t remember the past three years."

Samuel’s face darkened. "I don’t care what I forgot. Call Sierra. Now."

Hans hesitated. "Boss—"

"Now!"

Hans swallowed hard before pulling out his phone. I could only watch, frozen in place, as he called her. The call was short. She was close by.

I couldn’t breathe.

"Samuel, please. Just listen to me. I—"

"I don’t want to hear anything else." His voice was cold. Distant.

The door opened.

Sierra walked in, her heels clicking against the floor, her perfect smile blooming as she saw him.

"Babe!" she called out, rushing to his side.

My nails dug into my palms as I watched him look at her the way he used to look at me.

Like I was nothing.

His entire face softened, his arms opening as she fell into them. My chest ached, shattered into a thousand pieces as he held her like she was his entire world.

I couldn’t take it. My entire body trembled as I met their gazes—Samuel’s cold and indifferent, Sierra’s smug and victorious. They didn’t need to say it. Their eyes screamed it. Leave.

A lump formed in my throat as anger and heartbreak swirled inside me. My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms. I spun on my heels and stormed out before Hans could even try to guide me.

I wouldn’t let them see me break.