My Mafia Husband Tried To Cure Me With My Friend, Now He Regrets Everything

After I was kidnapped by my Family’s enemies, I was left with severe PTSD. I couldn’t stand the noise of intense sound. On our wedding day, my husband, the Mafia Don Andre, swore before God that he would create a world of silence for me. For five years, he never wore any device that made a sound. He even ordered that no gunshots were to be heard anywhere in Sicily, losing several major deals because of it. Until my best friend Alice returned to Sicily and openly played rock music inside the estate. The terror of being kidnapped came rushing back. I crawled onto the floor, begging and apologizing over and over. Tears mixed with the blood running down my face as I kept hitting my head against the ground. Half an hour later, the music stopped. Alice held up her phone, laughing so hard she could barely stand. “Oh my God. She actually thought she was being kidnapped again.” Andre recorded my humiliation with a phone in his hand while laughing and comforting me. “Alice said this is exposure therapy. After a few more times, you won’t be afraid anymore.” My brother stared at me through the screen and scolded me from the other side. “Monica, look at yourself. How can you possibly be worthy of being a Donna?” My entire body was drenched in sweat. My hair was covered in blood, and I couldn’t even stand. I stared at the note in Andre’s hand, and realized. Last month, he was the one who replaced my noise-canceling headphones with headphones that played nothing but loud noises. Last week, he was the one who took me to that noisy bar. The silence he once built for me was now being destroyed by his own hands. Slowly, I pushed myself up from the floor. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I simply looked at him.I no longer wanted to remain in his world. Chapter 1 I was drenched in cold sweat, looking utterly miserable, as if I had just been pulled out of a pool of water. Alice doubled over laughing. “Oh my God, Monica, you’re way too easily scared.” Andre held up his phone, and on the screen, my brother Joey wore a cold, stern expression. “Look at yourself. You’re thirty years old, yet you still can’t face the trauma from your childhood.” “You should be grateful Andre doesn’t mind putting up with you.” Andre quickly spoke to him through the screen. “Don’t say that. Monica just needs more time.” “Time? It’s been five years. If you keep indulging her, she’ll never get better.” Joey let out a cold snort. I knelt on the floor, blood trickling down from my forehead as dizziness washed over me. Andre crouched down and reached out to help me. I pushed his hand away. My palms were stained bright red with blood, and there was blood and torn flesh beneath my fingernails from where I had clawed at my own arm during the panic attack. “Next time, we’ll make it an hour. We have to take it step by step—that’s exactly what my textbook says.” Joey answered from the phone. “Fine. You two handle it. Just don’t take it too far.” Then I heard the call end. Using the wall for support, I made my way toward the bathroom one step at a time. As the hot water poured over my body, I suddenly remembered how Andre had proposed to me five years ago. Andre had dropped to one knee, slipped the ring onto my finger, kissed my hand, then looked up at me with his eyes curved into a smile. “I’ll shield you from all the noise in the world.” At that moment, I thought I would never be trapped by fear again for the rest of my life. Until today. For the first time in five years, I began to feel afraid again. I stayed under the shower for a long time, so long that the water heater eventually started running cold. When I came out, all the speakers had been put away again. Andre was waiting outside the bedroom door with a cup of warm milk in his hand. “Monica, you did well today.” His gaze was sincere, and his voice was gentle. “Alice said your reaction was milder than expected, which means you’re making progress.” He held the cup out to me. I didn’t take it. Andre leaned against the doorframe behind me, his tone casual. “Are you angry with me?” “No.” I paused. “Last month, my noise-canceling headphones were replaced with headphones that played loud noises.” “Last week, the driver took me to a bar.” “You arranged all of that, didn’t you?” Andre was silent for two seconds. “Alice said we should start with low-intensity exposure… You didn’t react that badly at the time…” “Then what step was today’s rock music?” He set the glass down, walked over, and placed his hands on my shoulders, his expression earnest. “Monica, I know you’re afraid, but you can’t live like this forever. You can’t expect everyone to accommodate you for the rest of your life.” “Alice is trained in this, at least. It’s better than you constantly running away from it.” Before I could say anything, Alice’s voice came from downstairs. “Monica! I’m heading out!” “We’ll keep going next week, okay? You lasted half an hour this time. That’s amazing!” The sound of her high heels gradually faded away. The entire house fell silent. Chapter 2 That night, Andre fell asleep beside me. I remembered our wedding day. The hall was packed with guests, and Andre stood on the stage, making his vows before the priest. “I swear to you, from this day forward, there will never be a sound in Sicily that can disturb you again.” When he finished saying those words, my brother Joey smiled—a rare sight. He patted Andre on the shoulder twice, hard. “I trust you with Monica.” Now, I lay in the pitch-black bedroom. The sound of this man’s breathing was only inches away. I felt as though I had been locked inside a room filled with noise, my head pounding unbearably. On Monday morning, I made an appointment with the best psychologist in Sicily. When the hospital appointment details popped up on my phone, I was sitting at the dining table eating breakfast. Andre came out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee, his eyes briefly flicking toward my phone. “You’re going to see a doctor?” “I won’t be able to go with you today. There’s something going on with the Family. I’ll pick you up later.” I didn’t answer and slipped my phone into my pocket. The specialist was a gray-haired woman wearing thin-framed glasses. After reading through the assessment questionnaire I had filled out, she put down her pen. “Have you recently been subjected to repeated, involuntary exposure to loud noises?” “Your anxiety level has doubled compared with three months ago, and you’re already showing signs of impending panic attacks.” I gripped my knees, my palms slick with sweat. “You must absolutely avoid any form of forced exposure from now on. This isn’t desensitization therapy. It’s piling new trauma onto existing trauma.” “If this continues, it could develop into permanent PTSD.” My throat tightened, and I couldn’t get a single word out. As soon as I walked out of the hospital, my phone rang. It was Joey. “Andre said you went for a follow-up today? What did the doctor say?” I hesitated for a moment. “The doctor said I can’t do any more exposure therapy. My condition is getting worse…” “Enough.” He cut me off, his voice filled with impatience. “You’re just too delicate. At least Alice studied psychology. She knows more than you do. What’s so hard about cooperating with the treatment? Stop making things difficult for Andre.” I stood on the steps outside the hospital, my phone pressed against my ear. The sunlight fell on me, but I couldn’t feel the slightest bit of warmth. I thought back to when I was a child. The member of the Family didn’t know about my condition, and they set off fireworks on Christmas Day. I covered my ears and instinctively started biting my own arm, desperately destroying everything within reach. When I came back to my senses, Joey was holding me in his arms, shielding my ears. My teeth had bitten his hand until it was covered in blood. “Your brother’s here. Don’t be afraid.” He was fourteen that year. I ended the call, and three minutes later, Andre sent me a message: “Okay, got it. I won’t have time to pick you up, so just come home on your own. Oh, and Alice is coming over to cook for you today. She said she scared you last time and wants to make it up to you.” When I got home, Alice came out of the kitchen. She was wearing my floral apron. “Monica! I made pasta!” She smiled and waved the spatula at me, the ring on her finger sparkling brightly. It was the ring Andre had bought at an auction last month. He had given me the necklace and bracelet, and casually given the ring to Alice. I hadn’t thought much of it at the time. But now, looking at that ring, my stomach churned with nausea. At the dinner table, I tried to speak. “The doctor said my anxiety level has doubled. She said I absolutely can’t…” “Monica.” Alice put down her fork and interrupted me. “That doctor is far too conservative. My mentor once said that a patient’s subjective feelings can’t be used as the basis for treatment. Otherwise, no desensitization therapy could ever be carried out.” She spoke with absolute certainty, with a hint of pity in her voice. As if I were a child who didn’t know any better. Andre’s fork paused for a moment before he nodded. “Alice has a point.” His words that dismissed everything I was feeling. The following Sunday, Andre suddenly said to me: “Monica, don’t go to the hospital this afternoon.” “Alice said that combining different forms of treatment will interfere with the effectiveness of the therapy.” My throat tightened. “What about me after that?” “Let’s just follow Alice’s approach. All you do in those therapy sessions is talk. Have you actually seen any results?” He prepared to leave. “I’m going to take care of some Family business. I’ll be back tonight to keep you company.” I sat alone in the empty room. I picked up my phone, intending to schedule another appointment with a psychologist. But a notification popped up on my screen: “Donna, we’re sorry, but under the Don’s orders, we can no longer continue providing you with our services.” I put down my phone. I sat motionless on the sofa, feeling cold. I remembered the day I was first diagnosed with PTSD. I cried the moment I walked out of the consultation room. Andre crouched down in the hallway and looked up at me, wiping the tears from my face with his thumb. “It’s okay. I looked into it. This condition can be treated. I’ll always be by your side.” Andre, you lied to me. I covered my eyes, and the tears silently streamed down my face. Andre, you lied to me… Chapter 3 Two weeks later, when I stepped out of the bedroom, I found that the estate had been completely rearranged. Speakers were everywhere, playing music that made me deeply uncomfortable. My heart suddenly began racing, and my hands clenched involuntarily. Andre poked his head out of the study. “Alice said your treatment should start with prolonged exposure to low-volume sound so you can gradually adjust.” I rushed over, and just as my fingers touched one of the speakers, Andre grabbed me from behind. “Alice said this is a necessary part of the process. If we turn it off now, everything we’ve done will be for nothing.” “Every time you panic, you run away. How are you ever going to get better like this?” His grip was so strong that he had me completely pinned in his arms. “I don’t need to adjust!” I broke free of him, my voice trembling violently. “Turn off the music.” “Monica, calm down.” His tone was still gentle, but there was impatience underneath it. I wrenched myself away from him and picked up a ornament. I walked over to the speaker and smashed the ornament against it with all my strength. The noise stopped. “Monica!” Andre’s expression changed. “Have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea how much thought Alice has put into treating you?” Andre rushed over and snatched the ornament from my hand. “Monica, can you stop assuming the worst about everything? Alice is only trying to help you. If you keep resisting treatment like this, your condition will only get worse.” Andre took a deep breath, then walked over with his phone in his hand. The video call was already connected, and Joey appeared on the screen with a frown. “Monica, Andre told me everything.” “Is there something wrong with you? She’s spending her time and money trying to help you, and this is how you respond? Do you have any idea how hurt Alice and Andre must feel?” “Brother, the doctor said…” “Stop using the doctor as a shield!” He cut me off sharply. “You’ve always been like this, ever since you were a child. You’re afraid of everything and you run away from everything. You’re lucky Andre is willing to take care of you!” He paused for a second. “Alice and Andre are still trying to help you, and this is how you repay them—with ingratitude.” I stared at his reddened face on the screen. I remembered how, on stormy nights, he used to run into my room and tightly squeeze my hand. He would smile at me and say, “Don’t be afraid. Your big brother will always be by your side.” The video call ended. Andre came over and sat beside me, his voice deep and serious. “Monica, Alice genuinely wants to help you. Think about it. Besides me and her, who else would be willing to put this much effort into dealing with your condition?” He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “You heard your brother. He said you should cooperate.” I said nothing, feeling as though a huge hole had been torn open in my heart. At eleven that night, I was already lying in bed. Andre’s phone rang in the living room. Alice’s voice drifted in from the phone’s speaker, choked with tears and hurt. “Andre, am I just meddling where I’m not wanted? Does she think I’m trying to hurt her?” Andre’s voice was low and gentle. “It’s not your fault, Alice. I’ll talk to her properly later.” I lay in the darkness with my eyes closed. If it wasn’t her fault, then it had to be mine. Five minutes later, he came back. “Monica, send Alice a message and apologize.” “Alice genuinely wants to help you. Can you stop going against her all the time?” He looked at me. “Think about it. Besides me and her, who else would be willing to put this much effort into dealing with your condition?” I opened my eyes and looked at him, but I could no longer see even a trace of the man he used to be. “Okay.” My voice was barely a whisper. “I’ll apologize.” I picked up my phone, typed out a message, and sent it. “Alice, I’m sorry.” I put down my phone and closed my eyes. Andre, I will never believe you again. Chapter 4 Over the weekend, Alice posted an invitation to a party in the group chat. The venue was a newly opened bar. She specifically @ me and typed out a long message: “Don’t worry! I’ve already spoken to them. They won’t play any music. We’re just getting together with some friends!” Andre replied in the group chat on my behalf: “She’ll come.” Joey immediately sent a voice message. “Monica, Consider it a chance to get out and clear your head. Stop sitting at home all day, overthinking everything. Andre will go with you.” And it seemed I had no choice at all. When we arrived, it really was quiet. Besides Alice and me, there were three of her friends there. Andre sat on a sofa in the corner, looking at his phone. We drank and played a few little games. I lost one round and was about to admit defeat and take a drink, but Alice stopped me. “Why don’t you go up on stage, turn on the music, and sing a song?” I looked around the bar. The stage was surrounded by speakers. If the music was turned on, I could already imagine what would happen. The fear rushed straight to my head. “No.” I stood up. The other three girls immediately turned to look at me. I knew that look all too well. Their faces seemed to say, Why do you have to ruin everything? Alice smiled as she walked over and put an arm around my shoulders. “Relax. It’s just one song.” “Didn’t you say you wanted to cooperate with your treatment? Practice once in front of everyone.” I looked toward Andre in the corner. When our eyes met, he hesitated for a moment. “Monica, why don’t you try? I’ll stay right beside you.” “Do you promise that if I start feeling uncomfortable, you’ll stop the music?” “I promise.” He nodded. I walked toward the stage. My steps felt heavy, and every footfall felt like I was walking on cotton. The moment I stepped onto the stage, every speaker suddenly blasted to life, playing an extremely loud, chaotic DJ track. My body began to tremble violently. But this time, I didn’t scream. Through the haze, I heard Alice laughing. “Start the timer! Let’s see how long she can last!” I also heard the sound of a phone recording. I crouched on the floor and sank my teeth into the back of my hand, tasting blood. I wouldn’t scream. I wouldn’t give them the reaction they wanted. Thirty seconds. One minute. Two minutes… Blood trickled down my wrist, and I felt like I was on the verge of passing out. I heard a hint of panic in Andre’s voice. “That should be enough, right? Stop!” “Wait a little longer. My mentor said it takes at least five minutes to create an effective stimulus.” Andre said nothing more. Five minutes later, the music stopped. I slowly stood up. The back of my hand was covered in bite marks and dried blood. My lips were split too, and the metallic taste of blood spread through my mouth, but I stood perfectly straight. Andre reached out to support me. I stepped aside, avoiding him. “Monica…” “I’m fine.” I walked over to the table and picked up my bag. As I passed Alice, I stopped for a moment. The smile was still on her face, and she was still holding up her phone. I looked at her and smiled. “Five minutes. That’s enough.” Then I pushed open the bar door, walked outside, and called my lawyer. “I want a divorce.” In the taxi, I rolled down half the window. The night wind rushed in, blowing against the wounds on the back of my hand. I wasn’t trembling anymore. It felt as though the fear had disappeared during those five minutes, along with something else. Love. Hope. They had all been burned away. I opened my phone and booked the earliest flight I could find out of Sicily. I returned to the estate and took everything I needed with me. As the plane took off, I rested my head against the window. And said one final goodbye in my heart. Goodbye, Andre. The man I once loved more than anyone.