Traded To The Bratva: My Husband's Betrayal

n since my husband, Dante, traded my life to a Russian

ng her six-month-pregnant belly at my own funeral. He didn't look like a

s in relief. Instead, he protected Lucia. He believed her

chapel until my back was in shreds. Then, he dragged me to the roof and threw me

idn't know she was the one selling secrets to the B

lding the Vitiello diamond necklace, begging me

adows behind me-the enforcer who took a bulle

diamonds, then

g," I whispered. "I

pte

y-nin

my husband traded my life to a Russian car

ounds of the Vitiello estate to find him caressin

els against the wet pavement. I stood at the fringe of the mourning cro

naturally. There was n

to perfection. And Dante Moretti, the man I had vowed to love until my last breath, looked somber-bu

ts, I should be rotting in a ditch

rns hotter than the Bratva's vodka

if sliced by a blade. The silence that descended over th

went wide. The blood drained from his face so fast it left h

her stomach, protecting the bump that shouldn't exist

ed. It wasn't a greeting.

was raspy, shredded from months of

nd walked toward the waiting limousine, leaving th

cating. Dante sat across from me, st

away before he could make contact

aid finally, his voice rough. "T

ing them in the dim light. Ten fingers. Sca

y tone devoid of warmth. "You didn't che

othing. H

ed to be my sanctuary. Now, the air hung heav

a's

security car. She stood by the fireplace, her hands cradling her stomach. She

er voice trembling. "I

Grieving apparently involves a sign

. Protecting her. Always protecting her. "We found comfort i

ped. "She's six months along

ation dawn on him. "That baby isn't a pro

p ten degrees. Dante looked at Lucia. She

f," I said to her. "B

desk and picke

ing?" Dante aske

inic. You have a choice, Dante. The heir or

ngled sob. "My asthm

de instantly. "Sera, s

ith a tenderness he hadn't shown me in years. "Until

the moment I touched American soil. I slammed them onto the glas

emanded. "Separa

on shifted. The shock evaporated, replaced by that f

a gasping on the sofa, an

, he tore them in ha

voice a dangerous rumble. "And you

onto the floor. "You are my prop

up in his arms. "I'm taking her to the

er out, the door clic

se her