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The Neglected Wife's Ultimate Mafia Comeback

Chapter 2 

Word Count: 909    |    Released on: 05/06/2026

nna

silence, the tables draped in white linen like so many sh

eep shadows, his form barely distingu

so precisely that it only emphasized th

sh leather of the bo

pouring me a glass of wine

said, his gaze falling first to m

ly, my fingers closing around t

its vibration a harsh buzz a

ideo call

nging tone a shrill intrusion

ommanded, his voice

screen to acc

lushed and angry, his mou

"The guards said you left the

g my voice perfectly level, a sh

frame, a silent ghost plac

the edge of Dante's dark sleeve w

llic echo from the phone's small speaker. "You ar

-pitched laugh sounded in the

was

p being dropped on a glass table, a sound made d

e looked away from the camera, hi

tone shifting to a pathetic scramble.

ed th

down, its screen going

, but from an exhaustion so profound it

heat from his body seeming

" Dante said, his voice a dangerous whisper. "A ma

my chin lifting in a gesture of defiance I did not feel.

hed across

s skin burned through my cold fingers, a violent sho

Sienna. I will tea

estate in a silence thi

gates opened fo

way, keeping the engine running, the ve

night, gathering my coat a

an was sending text after text,

nore

media app used by the you

st posted

n through the window of a first-class loung

dy for the trip of a

, a space where the audacity

eply to Julian's

dni

the sound of the heavy front door lock

to rule. For the first time in years, I allowed myself t

stretched thin across my face at c

upposed to

e driveway after a long, wea

dlights cutting a swath a

SUV was parked

t the hood, a posture

against him, her arms

eye of the moon, in the open driv

reak-I had run out of that years ago-but from the cold, clarifyi

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The Neglected Wife's Ultimate Mafia Comeback
The Neglected Wife's Ultimate Mafia Comeback
“I was the dutiful wife of Julian, a ruthless Capo in the Chicago Syndicate. Six months ago, my convoy was ambushed by a rival cartel. While I lay bleeding out on the cold floor of the car, my husband was on the phone with his mistress, Mia. "Lock your doors, stay inside," he told her, never once asking if I was alive. I survived, only to watch him flaunt his betrayal. He brought his mistress into our home, booked her luxury suites in Tokyo, and bought her massive diamonds with Syndicate funds. When I refused to play the part of his obedient, blind wife, he publicly humiliated me and orchestrated rumors to isolate me. He thought I was just collateral, a powerless figurehead he could control and eventually discard to settle his debts. I had endured this loveless marriage to survive in the family, yet he treated me worse than dirt while elevating a mistress who knew nothing of our world. I was suffocating in a cage of neglect, enraged by the audacity of a coward who broke every sacred vow. So, I took off my vulgar wedding ring and left it on his bathroom sink. I picked up my phone and sent a message to Dante Falcone, the exiled heir who had stitched my flesh back together in secret. This time, I chose to burn my husband's empire to the ground.”