The Mafia King's Unwanted Wife Shines

ace the altar. He unbuckled his heavy leat

learn respect

as a bloody mess. All because his mistress, Sofia,

n't hesitate. He just wanted to pun

in, I didn't scream. I just

who dove into the frozen la

one who took a knife fo

a's lies that sh

d for him. And in return, he scarred me

d my bags, signed the divorce papers, and swore

the floorboards. He read the truth about who really sav

s in a crowded hotel lobby, and begged

e man who brok

," I said softly. "Becau

pte

na

tore through my skull was my husband's vo

ello family," he told my kidna

line we

feel th

of ten years of unrequited lov

r that smelled of sandalwood and expens

snappe

warehouse ti

lo estate, staring up at the familiar vau

was draped o

fr

ring against my rib

lo was sleep

t me. He was the Underboss of the New York Cosa Nostra, a man who had ki

n who had just sen

, three yea

clock on the nightstand. The da

ee years i

perfect mafia wife. Six months of me trying to make him see me as mo

, the sharp jawline, the dark

love to surge, bu

hest. No desperate

w silence where my

lifted his he

in even in sleep. His hand shot

s rough with sleep. "

I would have snuggled back into him,

hand on my wrist li

oom,"

, devoid of the war

ned over, dismiss

d locked the door, leaning ba

myself in

my eyes bright-not yet dulled by years

he marble sink until my

to die in that

egging for affection from a man who would trad

water, scrubbing away the

lly dressed in a black silk blouse and trou

, rubbing his face. He look

," he said, his voice th

" I

in the air, he

er said n

eyes, the sleep v

other tantrum because I

I said, grabbing my

th

uc

acked humor. "The Consigliere? Why would

t a mistak

ait for hi

room, leaving the

the early morning fog mirrorin

e fluorescent lights. He had been the Old Don's most trusted ad

as I entered. "Is everything a

said, closing the door. "I need

m, confused. "Of course. What do you need? A

on agreemen

en stopp

me, his eyes w

words with care. "You are a Vitiello

him off, my voice sharp. "And

o this," Luca warned. "It

oring his warning. "Make it clear I want nothi

lowering to a whisper, "and Dante finds

, the truth of it ringing in the silen

an hour, the clicking of the

inter

paper across th

?" he asked o

ed up

't hes

ned m

na G

Viti

fice door slammed open, bouncing o

here, filling

is tie was undone, his chest

illing the room with terrifying authority. "You leave

esk and snatched the pa

d the

es wen

ispered, the quiet sound far

y* looked at me, for th

ears. He was expecting to

the dead eyes of a woman who had al

, Dante,

s fist, his knuckles straining. "You think yo

a burden," I replied calmly

ading my personal space with his overwhelming presence. "

y blouse. "Frame it. Burn it. I don't care. But I'm moving

st him towa

p bruising, trying to inti

ng a dangerou

s hand, then up int

lling my arm free with a stre

fol

ew York staring at an empty doorway, holding a crumpled piece o