Unmasking My Mafia Fiancé

Unmasking My Mafia Fiancé

Gavin

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My fiancé, a mafia Capo, promised the painkillers would help after the "car crash." It was a lie. The real accident was his temper, and I was his favorite punching bag. In a medicated haze, I overheard the truth. He was on the phone with his consigliere, boasting about stealing my billion-dollar casino blueprint. He was going to use it to become Underboss. He planned to propose, then use our world's code of silence to legally gag me from ever claiming my own work. His mistress, Olivia, would be the public face of the project. The worst part was the truth about my miscarriage. It wasn't an accident. He and Olivia had orchestrated it, calling our baby a "complication" that would kill his ambition. At a party, he proved it all. After shoving me to the ground in front of everyone, he walked away with her, leaving me in a heap of humiliation. The love I had for him didn't just die; it turned into a cold, hard certainty. He had taken my work, my child, and my dignity. So I sent him one last email: a file containing proof of every lie, every betrayal, and a video of his abuse. The subject line read: "My Wedding Gift." Then I boarded a one-way flight to New York to partner with the one man he truly feared. This wasn't a breakup. It was war.

Chapter 1 Chapter 1

My fiancé, a mafia Capo, promised the painkillers would help after the "car crash." It was a lie. The real accident was his temper, and I was his favorite punching bag.

In a medicated haze, I overheard the truth. He was on the phone with his consigliere, boasting about stealing my billion-dollar casino blueprint. He was going to use it to become Underboss.

He planned to propose, then use our world's code of silence to legally gag me from ever claiming my own work. His mistress, Olivia, would be the public face of the project.

The worst part was the truth about my miscarriage. It wasn't an accident. He and Olivia had orchestrated it, calling our baby a "complication" that would kill his ambition.

At a party, he proved it all. After shoving me to the ground in front of everyone, he walked away with her, leaving me in a heap of humiliation.

The love I had for him didn't just die; it turned into a cold, hard certainty. He had taken my work, my child, and my dignity.

So I sent him one last email: a file containing proof of every lie, every betrayal, and a video of his abuse. The subject line read: "My Wedding Gift." Then I boarded a one-way flight to New York to partner with the one man he truly feared. This wasn't a breakup. It was war.

Chapter 1

Serafina POV:

The doctor promised the prescribed medication would dull the ache of the crash. He never said it would amplify the truth that was about to fracture my life.

I lay on the sofa, a faint pulse behind my eyes echoing the throb in my bruised knee. The official story was a car accident. A minor collision. A careful lie. The truth was my fiancé, Ethan Cole, a man of immense influence within the Marchetti Group, with a temper that burned hotter than his ambition.

In the hazy space between sleep and waking, his voice drifted from the hallway. It was low and confident, the sound I used to find so reassuring. Now, it was a shard of glass, slicing through the fog in my head. He was on the phone with Noah, his trusted advisor.

"It's a billion-dollar blueprint, Noah. A billion. 'City of Echoes' will cement my legacy. The Chairman will have no choice but to name me his successor."

My blood ran cold. My blueprint-three years of my life, my intellect, my secret passion, distilled into a revolutionary casino-resort design. "City of Echoes." He said the name as if he had conjured it from his own mind.

"And Olivia?" Noah's voice was a tinny murmur through the phone, but his disapproval was a sharp edge against the static.

"Olivia is the face," Ethan boasted. "Her celebrity gets us the mainstream attention we need. She's on board. We present it together. A power couple."

A bitter taste rose in my throat, a sickness worse than anything the medication could touch.

"And what about Fina?" Noah asked.

Ethan laughed, a short, dismissive sound. "I'll propose after the Chairman greenlights the project. We'll have a big wedding. Once she's my wife, the unspoken rules of our world will keep her silent. She can't claim a thing. It's perfect."

The web of unspoken loyalties. He planned to use it to cage me, to bind me to his theft.

"This is without honor, Ethan," Noah said, his voice firm now. "Have you forgotten the heist? When your mistake nearly got you ruined and she told your Capo the plan was flawed? She sacrificed her own name to save yours."

I squeezed my eyes shut, the memory a fresh wound. I had buried it, taken the blame, letting them think my strategic mind had a fatal flaw, all to protect Ethan's ascent.

"And the baby?" Noah's voice dropped, and my heart stopped. "Was it Olivia who convinced you it was a complication? That a child would make you look soft, that it would dilute your ambition?"

The air left my lungs in a silent gasp. The manufactured arguments. The stress he'd deliberately created. The public altercation where our argument grew so heated I stumbled back, the fall... the miscarriage I had blamed on my own weakness. My new, horrifying realization was not that he had caused it, but that his focus had already shifted past it, the tragedy a mere footnote in his grand narrative. It wasn't an accident to him. It was an inconvenience that had passed.

"Olivia is my future," Ethan declared, his voice cold and final. "Fina is... convenient. She's loyal. That's her value."

Convenient.

Loyal.

My heart didn't break. It shattered into a million icy fragments. The love I had felt for him, the future I had built in my mind, all of it incinerated. In the ashes, something new and hard began to form.

I lay perfectly still, my breathing even, feigning the deep sleep of the medicated and broken. I waited until I heard the front door click shut.

Then, I reached for my phone. My fingers trembled, but my mind was a shard of ice. I opened an encrypted messaging app and found a name I hadn't contacted in years. A name Ethan feared.

Liam Sterling. The undisputed titan of the city's most powerful enterprise. Years ago, at a charity gala, he'd called my unsolicited analysis of a rival's finances the most brilliant "short story" he'd ever heard.

My message was five words.

"I have a business proposal."

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