Betrayed Bride, Mafia Queen Rises

family, I went to file our official union papers. It was the culmination of

wife two months prior. It wasn't me. It was Isabel

am. He stood with his arm around Isabella, who clutched her stomach and claimed to be carrying his

-the proof of the work that built his entire career-with the

and trying to induce a miscarriage, I finally understo

on's Consigliere had offered me control of the Chimera project, the most powerful intelligence network in the or

pte

ntin

st soldier, I went to register our union with the family Consigliere. That's w

this single goal: Marco's ascent. It was our future, the foundation of the family I so desper

ave tonight, just the two of us. I bought his favorite stea

official union papers with Salva

ued to his phone. "I'm busy, Vally. It's a

co. It secures my position, our

ice laced with an irritation that w

se. Dante, "The Lion," was a man whose name was spoken in whispers, a phantom of power who controll

yself. A surprise. A way of showing him I was still his pa

uiet room that smelled of old paper and leather. The clerk was a

nion registration," I

s the polished wood.

o Gio

at me, a flicker of something-pity?-in her eyes. "

"Oh, thank God. He did it himse

mile. "Yes. He reg

en on my face. "Right.

gaze unwavering. "The registr

e swore was nothing more than a youthful mistake. The daughter of the Moretti family, one o

ng in my throat. "We've been together for three ye

rdi family archives. There is, however, a legal marriage certificate on file for him and Isabella Moretti, date

ontents spilling across the floor. My hands shook as I fumbled for my wallet, for the worn photo of Marco and me on our 'binding day.' It wa

king as I held out the photo.

out interest. "Personal phot

n," I begge

or toward me. There it was, in cold, black letters on the screen: Marco Gior

o had come home late, smelling of a perfume I didn't recognize. He'd slid a stack of papers in front of me, tellin

he bottom, Vall

a word. What had I signed? A dissolution? A seve

t us until his position was secure. The projects I'd designed for him, the financial models for his legitimate businesses that had earned

igliere, to lead the Chimera project-the most sophisticated intelligence net

care, all I had ever wanted was a family. A place to belong. Marco had promised me that.

ts place. A fire. A rage so cold and pure it

ngings on the floor. I walked out o

cry. I was going t