Why Did Gina Leave Brooklyn Nine-Nine?

They call me 'Ghost.' The king of mercenaries, feared across the entire black market. But for Madeline, the Godmother of the Chicago Mafia, I walked away from it all. She wanted me by her side, so I became a normal man. We were married for five years. The entire underworld knew she loved me more than life itself. She even had my dagger tattooed next to her family's crest—a permanent mark of loyalty. Until I got the photo from her lover. The bartender was naked, his chest covered in red scratches from her nails. Madeline’s hand, with its red polish, was still on his waist. He’d drawn his name right next to my dagger on her skin. And my wife had let him. "Madeline says I'm the only one who can make her feel like a woman. You can't satisfy her anymore. It's time to make way for a younger man." I didn't reply. I just made a call. "Hello. I need a new identity. And a plane ticket."

At the Moretti family banquet, Don Cesare Moretti won a two-person package to a private island resort. The host asked with a teasing grin, "Don Moretti, who are you taking with you?" Every pair of eyes in the room turned to me. The crowd began chanting my name, their voices rising with gleeful anticipation. "Adriana! Adriana!" My heart hammered against my ribs. I smiled at Cesare, hope blooming warm in my chest. But Cesare didn't even glance my way. His gaze had drifted past me, settling on his secretary sitting near the front. His voice was casual, almost indulgent. "Give it to her. The girl's been working late lately. She deserves a break." His secretary's face went scarlet. Those soldiers paused for just a beat—then someone shouted, "The Don is so thoughtful," and the laughter swelled again, smoothing over the moment. My best friend Bianca leaned in, whispering through clenched teeth, "We planned to get married together on the island this year. How could he forget something like that?" I smiled and forced back the tears. Then I reached over and straightened her collar. "Don't worry. The plan stays. The wedding happens." Then I called my father and said yes to the family arrangement. I would marry the Don of the Romanov family—Cesare's biggest rival. If Cesare didn't want to marry me, that was fine. I'd just find myself another groom.

My fiancé of eight years moved in with the junior he was mentoring. She was young, pretty, knew how to play helpless, and knew exactly what she was doing. He'd down every toast meant for her—the same nights he let me get talked into drinking until I nearly died. He sat with her through her depression, fetched her water, fed her by hand. And me? I was alone in a hospital bed, burning with a 104-degree fever. He set her up on a pedestal and never noticed I'd been ground into the dirt. The day they discharged me, I didn't scream. I didn't fall apart. I went home, quietly packed a suitcase, and burned every memory that had his name on it. Later I heard the famous CEO of Washington Group showed up at his fiancée's door with millions of dollars in gifts. He found an empty apartment. And he lost his mind.

She was robbed of her inheritance, her baby and her blissful marriage. All because of her stepsister. Gina, returns some months later, as the Heiress to Saxton Empire, prepared to deal with everyone who had caused her pain in the past. How will she carry out her plan of revenge after learning of the harsh truth about her ex-husband? Will her plans pull through even after learning that there is more to life than what meets the eye?

Julian Hayes spent eight years climbing from first officer to captain of the most coveted international routes. I stood beside him for every mile of that climb. For him, I walked away from the Valenti family, the most feared Mafia name on the East Coast. I buried Elena Valenti, and became Lina Vale, the girl who smiled in the cabin while he ruled the cockpit. The day I left, my father stood on the marble steps of our estate and said, "Elena, if you walk out that gate for him, don’t come crawling back." Julian never knew. To him, I was a woman with no real family, no real power, and no life worth asking about. I was the one who memorized his flight schedule, packed his stomach pills, and kept dinner warm until midnight. Once, I asked him, "Can you take me into the sky the way you see it? Just once." He didn’t even put down his fork. "The cockpit is a workplace, Lina. Not a theme park." I said okay and never asked again. Then one sleepless dawn, I found the encrypted album on his phone. More than forty cockpit photos: cloud seas, blood-red sunsets, double rainbows after storms, the Milky Way over the Atlantic. Every one had been sent to the same contact. A teddy bear emoji. The newest photo showed half a sun hanging off the wingtip. His caption read, [Next time you’re off, I’ll put you in the observer seat. Sit on the right. That’s where the whole sky opens up.] She replied, [I’ll hold you to that.] I put the phone back. I didn’t change the password, didn’t delete the album, didn’t wake him up to beg for an explanation. At dawn, I brewed his coffee like always, sat alone at the kitchen island, and drank mine in silence. Then I sent my resignation letter and called a number I hadn’t touched in eight years. I watched the first flight of the morning rise beyond the Manhattan skyline and said, "Papa, I’m coming home." When the line connected, my father’s voice was colder than a gun barrel. "Have you thought it through?"

I went to the hospital to pick up prenatal vitamins for my pregnant girlfriend, Nina Pringle, but I saw her in a room instead. She was staring at her ex, Shane Miller, guilt all over her face. "I'm sorry. I really didn't expect to get pregnant. "I told you, I'm with Felix just to see whether you still care about me..." Shane didn't hold back. "So when are you finally breaking up with him?" She shook her head, something cold flashing in her eyes. "He's been messing things up between us for too long. I'll make him feel guilty—get him to give me whatever I want... whatever we need. Don't worry. I don't love him."