My Second Marriage with the Mafia Kingpin

Scott opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. He swallowed hard as memories of what had happened slowly returned—getting shot, then trying to crawl after Marshal while he held Ashley hostage.

Deep down, Scott knew Ashley had deliberately let her guard down.

That was what he had taught her.

"He’s... dead, isn’t he?" he whispered, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.

He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, his mind struggling to process what had happened.

How could he?

For decades, Marshal Di Carpio had reigned over an entire continent. He had been untouchable. But now... it all felt like a dream.

"Are you still not going to tell me why you stayed with him?"

A familiar voice suddenly broke the silence.

Scott slowly opened his eyes and turned toward the source. Ashley was leaning against the open window, her arms crossed. The curtains had been drawn aside, but the soft breeze still made them flutter behind her.

"You’re here?" His voice came out hoarse.

"You didn’t sense me?" Ashley shifted her gaze toward him. "That’s odd. Is it the painkillers, or have your senses really dulled?"

She pushed herself away from the window and sauntered toward him. Grabbing a chair, she dragged it closer, its legs scraping softly against the floor.

Once seated, she leaned back and crossed one leg over the other.

"Or did your student finally surpass you?" she continued quietly. "I’d like to think it’s the latter."

Scott didn’t react. He simply stared at her in silence.

"Is he dead?" he asked after a long pause.

"What do you think?" she returned, raising her brows slightly. "You’re the one who taught me everything I needed to know about completing a mission. And my mission was to end him."

Scott swallowed, his breathing growing heavier. "I see."

That was all he said before looking away.

"So, he’s gone."

"Does that make you sad?" Ashley asked out of genuine curiosity as she watched him close his eyes again.

As expected, he didn’t answer.

"Probably not, then," she guessed unnecessarily. "But you don’t look relieved either."

Keeping his eyes closed, Scott asked, "What’s going to happen to me?"

"I don’t know." She shook her head. "I didn’t think that far ahead."

And that was the truth.

Her mission to take down Marshal had focused on only two things: sever his limbs and force him to his knees. Then, cut off his head.

As for those who stood in her way, they had all been sent straight to the burning gates of hell.

But Scott?

Ashley hadn’t given much thought to what she would do with him. Perhaps she had expected him to fight her—and, when it came down to it, die. She had never considered what she would do if he survived.

"Have you ever felt sorry for me, Scott?" she asked quietly. "Is that why you taught me everything I needed to survive, even though your methods were so twisted?"

It took him a moment to answer.

"It was an order," he said. "I followed his orders."

Technically, that was the truth.

Marshal had ordered Scott to teach her the ropes of the family’s dirty business, believing she would eventually get herself killed. Scott had followed that order... and then done more than what was asked of him.

There had been many instances when Ashley should have died. If not for Scott, she would never have reached adulthood. She would have died long before then.

Ashley drew a deep breath, her lips parting as she prepared to tell him why she was there. Before she could speak, however, Scott beat her to it.

"Did it make you happy?" he asked under his breath, his eyes slowly opening. Finally, he met her gaze. "Killing him?"

"No," she answered without hesitation.

Ashley fell silent as she considered how she felt knowing Marshal was gone for good. It made her realize how shallow the word happiness was.

That wasn’t what she felt at all.

It wasn’t even relief.

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly as her expression softened.

"Happiness... joy... disappointment... all those emotions mean nothing, Scott. Killing Marshal didn’t make me happy." She paused. "I felt... reborn."

Her voice remained quiet and calm, but it was filled with sincerity.

This was her second life, yet until now, everything had felt like nothing more than a dream.

This was her true rebirth.

Bathing in the blood of Marshal and the Di Carpio family, wreaking havoc, and burning everything to the ground had felt like a necessary ceremony—as twisted as that sounded.

"Everyone’s death didn’t fix me," she said. "But it certainly made a difference. I can finally move forward with my life, Scott."

Ashley leaned forward, resting her arms on the edge of his bed.

"I can stop beating myself up over all the stupid things I did—the pathetic hope I clung to just to be accepted. I can finally forgive myself for it."

A long silence settled over the room as they held each other’s gaze.

Watching Marshal fall hadn’t stirred the same emotions now rising in her heart as she looked at Scott.

She remembered all the time they had spent together. Those brief moments when it had been just the two of them—eating bread while walking through a filthy alley before a mission or sitting together during the quiet drives home after a successful one.

Strangely enough, the same memories replayed in Scott’s mind.

He remembered how he always had to look down at her because she had been so small and so young. Looking at her now reminded him of the little girl who used to cry all the time... until one day, she simply stopped. The girl who would suddenly ask him the most random questions.

Time had certainly flown.

"What do you need from me?" he asked under his breath, changing the subject. "You wouldn’t come here just to ask why I stayed with him."

Ashley nodded, keeping her gaze fixed on him.

"If Marshal wasn’t my father... do you know who is?"

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