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Traded To The Bratva: My Husband's Betrayal

Chapter 8 

Word Count: 772    |    Released on: 29/12/2025

d at the br

thes on my back and a body that felt less like f

tires crunching on gravel as they pulled over.

ered, tossing my purse onto the si

a bus station. I used the emergency cash I kept sewn into t

Dante and I lived in before he became a Capo

d like a junkie-bruised, limping, my hair matted with

et. Dust motes danced in the sunlight

the bedroom closet. I punched

ight blin

again.

ng for

the corner, looking pristine in white silk. She held

ty crackling between the prongs

know when to q

til my spine hit the wall. "Give it to me, an

arp. "He might get sentimental. He might re

lu

ribs screamed in protest, slowin

hot lightning bolt seizing my m

in the stomach. I curled into a bal

e spat. "You are the

ed. Heavy footsteps

" Dante

me on the floor, broken and gasping

ver to Lucia and gently took the weapo

" he asked me, his voice

I gasped, clutching

ook it. He looked at the photo of me, young and sm

my chest. It lande

" he

ested, her voice sh

e, his eyes dark. "You are still my property on paper, Seraphina. But you are dea

ang in the air, hea

dframe to pull myself up, my legs tre

py with unshed tears. "When you realize what you'

the apartment. I

dn't go to the police. I bought a ticket to the first internation

was a burner I had bought at a kiosk

wasn'

ing two million to the abandoned textile f

, the realization hit m

in Auckland, watching the r

had L

they t

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Traded To The Bratva: My Husband's Betrayal
Traded To The Bratva: My Husband's Betrayal
“Ninety-nine days. That was exactly how long it had been since my husband, Dante, traded my life to a Russian cartel just to save his mistress from a panic attack. I walked onto the grounds of the Vitiello estate only to find him caressing her six-month-pregnant belly at my own funeral. He didn't look like a grieving widower; he looked like a man who had finally buried his mistake. When I revealed I was alive, Dante didn't fall to his knees in relief. Instead, he protected Lucia. He believed her lies that I was insane, that I was a threat to his "heir." To prove his loyalty to her, he stood by while my father whipped me in the family chapel until my back was in shreds. Then, he dragged me to the roof and threw me into a freezing pool, watching me drown simply because Lucia claimed I pushed her. He didn't know Lucia was faking the pregnancy. He didn't know she was the one selling secrets to the Bratva. He broke his loyal wife to protect a traitor. Now, six months later, he stands in the rain holding the Vitiello diamond necklace, begging me to come home. He thinks he can buy forgiveness. But he doesn't see the man standing in the shadows behind me-the enforcer who took a bullet for me when Dante was busy breaking my bones. I looked at the diamonds, then at my husband. "I don't want a King," I whispered. "I chose the soldier."”
1 Chapter 12 Chapter 23 Chapter 34 Chapter 45 Chapter 56 Chapter 67 Chapter 78 Chapter 89 Chapter 910 Chapter 1011 Chapter 1112 Chapter 1213 Chapter 1314 Chapter 1415 Chapter 1516 Chapter 1617 Chapter 1718 Chapter 1819 Chapter 1920 Chapter 20