From Mafia Wife To Free Woman

e Chicago Bratva. My only purpose was to give him an heir. Today, I

n't want a wife. H

ng to his sister, Isabella. They were placing a m

a asked. "Once she gives you

followed was he

dropping to a chilling whisper. "A broodmare is

ngs are discarded. Violently. Every touch, every ca

t a child. He saw a

whole board over. I pulled out my phone and

ger's, hollow and steady. "I'd

pte

ra

was carrying the heir to Dante Moretti, the head of the Chicago Bratva. F

asn't a union; it was a contract signed in blood and sealed with my father's busi

as a rule. But not yet. Not until I had a plan. My foolish hope that he might so

was polished marble or dark wood, reflecting a distorted version of myself-a ghost in a gild

. His voice, a low rumble that could comma

med it this mornin

e he knew. The doctor reported to hi

d, let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Finally. Took yo

void of any emotion. No joy, no relief. Ju

?"Isabella asked, her voice

ran cold.

ed, as if discussing the weather. "If it's a g

my child. On a life that was nothing

ives you the heir, she'll be useless. Are you just goin

ffocating. I held my breath, my ear pre

ath sentences. "A broodmare is only valuable when it can produce. After that..."He didn't finish the sentence

This wasn't just about a loveless marriage. This was about survival. My child's surviva

had been a lie. Every touch, every calcul

mbers of hope. I was a pawn in his game, and the only way to

found the number for the contact my friend had given me mo

voice answered on t

nd which my husband was betting on the life o

y. "The plan is active. I need a new identity and an exit